Nova
by alinova
Summary: Florence Caldwell is only a protestor. A tiny, full of rage protestor who decides to headbutt the wrong cop and gets sent to Arkham Asylum. This is where her old life starts and her new one begins. Catching the eye of Poison Ivy is a rare, almost unheard of thing, but somehow Florence does, and the rest is history... Set before and during Arkham City and Arkham Asylum.
1. Chapter 1: Accidental Inmate

Florence knew that _logically_ she shouldn't expect her stay at Arkham Asylum to last all that long. They would scout the system, or examine her - give her a psych consult, maybe, and then they'd _realise_ she didn't belong here and they'd set her free.

Or they'd send her to _normal_ prison.

Logically, Florence should be just fine.

But this was not the place where things like logic _lived_. This was the place they sent the likes of The Joker and Harley Quinn. This was the place all the worst ones got sent to, and Florence was simply not one of them. Florence was a protester. A protester who had gotten on the wrong side of a petty, vindictive cop. But really, how was she to know he'd get her sent to Arkham Asylum when she decided to headbutt him? He'd called her a _hippie_.

Florence's _case was_ that she didn't really need to get herself all worked up. They were leading her up the big, dark, _dark_ (an omen?) steps to Arkham Asylum and she wasn't sure why, exactly, but she found herself to be all too calm. Completely calm. Serene, even. Huh.

"I know what you're thinkin'," the bastard cop who'd brought her here as a complete overreaction was _saying something_. Florence glared at him, condemning him to the worst fates she could think up inside her own head. But then again; who knew, in a place like this? _Anything_ could happen before the day was done. The highly outspoken and dramatic police officer carried on, regardless, "You're thinkin': 'oh, they'll just take a look at me and figure out I ain't one of the _mad_ ones', right?"

How had he-

"Well, sorry to rain on your _parade_ , sweetheart, but that ain't how it's gonna go _down_. They deal with _all_ sorts of quality actors in this joint. _Believe_ me. You'll get labeled a psychopath. They'll find little evidences of, uh, _insanity_ somewhere and then you'll be _stuck_ here with the rest'a them."

He gave out this disgusting little smarmy chuckle, and Florence could only think that her only regret would be that she couldn't headbutt him a second time, or a third.

 _Apparently he wasn't done._

"Tell you _what_ , too, princess! There's all sorts'a corrupt guards in there who like to take, uh, _liberties_ \- shall we say?"

Florence refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction beyond a slight widening to her eyes. He was lying. He had to be lying. The Batman visited this place, right? He stopped by to drop off criminals and to help out. _He_ would never let things like _that_ happen here, would he? No. He was Batman.

But what if, somehow, Batman didn't _know_ about it? As she'd just discussed with herself, he only stopped by to drop off inmates and to escort them and to intimidate certain people. Batman wouldn't _need_ to stick around long enough to realise what was going on behind closed doors. Florence felt the oddest urge to bite something. Her jaw ached. She just wanted to _bite_ -

"Come on, danger-hippie. Let's get you all admitted and shit."

Nice.

Classy.

There was no way _this_ cop was crooked. No siree.

Florence went through the whole admittance process in complete, terrified silence. She didn't speak except to confirm that she was, in fact, Florence Caldwell. She barely _breathed_ for fear of the world falling down around her. It felt just like it _could_ and would at any given moment. If she was being completely and brutally honest with herself - she half hoped that it would. The asshole cop who-had-just-sentenced-her-to-a-sentence-in-an-asylum-but-she-still-did-not-know-the-name-of accompanied her and the other two guards all the way to the cell, too. He made petty, unnecessary and downright _sleazy_ comments, he kept trying to trip her up, he pulled at her hair, he pinched at her cheek and nudged her, he rattled the short chain between her handcuffs...

Florence endured it all. She had to. She was conserving her strength and-

 _Fuck it._

Florence waited for him to stray a little too close (as he was cocky and comfortable enough to think he was safe) and then, with a hasty but aggressive lunge forward, she connected his nose with her forehead with a _deafening_ crack.

 _She'd broken his_ _ **nose.**_ _Glorious._

A shrill peal of laughter, twinned with a more elegant, elongated giggle sounded from the cells either side of her. Florence had no idea _how_ she knew this but she was already sure the shrill, psychotic laugh had come from none other than Harley Quinn. And as she whipped her head up towards the sound, she found she was exactly right with that assumption. The Joker's girlfriend. Right there. Just pressed up against the glass, her cheek mashed up against it and her lips all pouty as a result. The woman eyed her, still giggling at a steady, rythmic rate. They locked eyes and there was something that was just extremely, deeply disturbing about the silent exchange that followed. Florence trembled slightly, too focused on Harley to bother with struggling against the guards who were now wrestling with her still form to get her back into her state of submission.

She was already there. They needn't bother.

Harley's eyes switched from boring into her own to staring at something, or rather _someone_ behind Florence.

A slow, haunting pivot revealed Poison Ivy posing all resplendent and majestic in her own cell, on the other side - right across from Harley. _They must have had it arranged this way_ , Florence thought to herself, numbly. Her second thought was: _What an insanely beautiful Goddess_.

Which was the _point_.

Because Poison Ivy _was_ insane.

Or was she?

Florence had never been able to work that out. Was she insane or was she just... an eco terrorist? Neither was anything _good_. In that sense, none of it really mattered.

Ivy gave a coy little wave and blew Florence a kiss, and then she turned in one, _poetic_ , fluid motion - and drifted over to her cell bed.

Florence's own cell had a bed. It was smaller than Ivy's and ran parallel with the wall, unlike Harley's. But regardless it was a _bed_ , and that in itself was a miracle in a place like Arkham Asylum. It was so _domestic_ , and apart from her jumpsuit, was now pretty much the only thing Florence owned anymore. Her cell was far, _far_ away from that of Poison Ivy and Harley's, but she still felt that chill that was running through her like an AC that was never turned _off_. It panned left and right and up and down and covered her entire spine, just like a room fan would. It was horrible and it made her think she was colder than she really was. This wasn't even the worst of her worries, however, as Florence was acutely aware of the fact that she was still alarmingly calm. She hadn't so much as _blinked_ harshly since the cop had announced to her that he was taking her to Arkham. So perhaps it was shock? Or was it... was she just not _scared_?

The room fan inside of her body informed her that she _was_ scared. She just wasn't feeling it yet. She wasn't _processing it._ That was fine. That would be okay. Maybe it was better to hide all her panic and her horror and her hysteria - all the stuff she could feel bubbling up inside of her like the most inconvenient internal cauldron of all time. This wasn't really a place one should go to show _weakness_ , right? Florence's body could be helping her out; hiding all her debilitating weaknesses from the other, more murderous, psychotic inmates. Like Harley Quinn, for example. Or Poison Ivy.

 _Or even Killer Croc,_ that thoroughly unhelpful voice in her head whispered to her with a mischievous giggle. Hold on - a _giggle_? Barely 4 hours in this asylum and she was already developing rude voices in her head that _giggled_. Boy, she really needed to get _out._ Fast. That wasn't looking too hopeful a plan, though, because... _how_?

It took even the _worst_ of the asylum's occupants _weeks_ to break out, and even then they always seemed to end up back in this dump, anyway. Florence sighed, lips falling into a small, quiet raspberry. Yeesh. Talk about the worst day of her life. Her mind immediately took her straight to thoughts of Jared, her boyfriend, waiting for her at home. He would still be asleep at this time - due to wake up in the next hour. He always woke up too early. Always at 5 o'clock. Florence bowed her head, shoulders quaking a little with the unacknowledged emotion she was struggling to keep at bay at the realisation that Jared would have absolutely no idea nor explanation as to where she was. She hadn't _told_ him she was attending the night time protest outside the factories, because she knew he disapproved of her putting herself at risk just to stand up for some plants. Florence hadn't even left him a _note._ To Jared, it would doubtless just seem like she'd abandoned him, that she'd just upped and fled in the night. All of her stuff was still there, so there was always the possibility that he could assume she'd been kidnapped, or something - but this was _Jared_. The man was a detective in _training_. He never ever made assumptions like the latter. He was a pessimist, a guy who'd seen a _lot_ of the darkness in the world and had come to terms with all of it. No, Florence _knew_ Jared. He would jump to the conclusion that she had made an impulsive decision and had left him in the middle of the night. Florence slumped back against her bed, not caring for the way her spine curled up and her legs went all weak. It was a very good thing she was already sitting down.

It was at this very moment that a guard walked by, glanced into her cell and then _stopped_.

The big, slightly bulky helmet tilted sideways along with the guard's head as he stared right at her. Florence stared back, nonplussed. Was this normal behaviour for an asylum guard? Florence honestly just did not know the _standard_ for things and places like this. Did she need to be worried?

"You're not supposed to _be here_..." the guard spoke to her, his head still tilted at an awkward angle. It was clear this was a man, now. His voice was low and quirky and it tugged at the darkest corners of her mind, luring at it to send them out onto the surface. She did _not_ like this man's voice. It terrified her. It was weirdly familiar, too.

"No, I'm not," she agreed, curling up into the foetal position on her bed. She didn't dare to stray closer to the everything-proof glass. The guard's head rolled up from it's awkward position only to flop to the other side in a second highly uncomfortable looking tilt.

"So the _question_ is... why, why, _why_ did they slot a little _leaf_ in with all the slices of _bread_ in the toaster?"

Florence shivered. Full-bodied. She couldn't help it. The voice was distressing. It was harrowing. She just wanted him to _go away_. If she told him that, though, there was always the (fairly monumental) chance that it would make him want to stick around and freak her out for longer. Fortunately for Florence, the guard obviously had _things he needed to do_ , as he gave out a somewhat distorted hum and then moved off down the hall. His movements were a little too... erratic to be entirely, convincingly sane. Florence was inclined to wonder if they hired former patients here. From what she'd seen it was looking highly probable.

It wasn't until hours and _hours_ later that Florence heard the explosion. It was actually around the time Jared would be going on his lunch break at work.

Florence's lunch had been stewed cabbage with the tiniest cuttings of steak she'd ever seen. It all tasted like cardboard. Lunch time was also the time she'd been informed, very casually, that more time had been added to her original sentence as a penalty for her 'assault' on the police officer who she'd been imprisoned for attacking in the first place.

Florence thought of the word 'assault' mockingly because she hadn't been aware that punishing monsters for their existence had been a crime.

He was probably the kind of guy that set fire to innocent bushes when he went camping, just to fetch himself some entertainment.

Florence felt her lip curling. She was a very small, very tiny and slim little thing that harboured a _lot_ of energy and outrage and passion. A lot of this came out during the protests against environmental _vultures_ that she attended every fortnight or so. It had just been her _luck_ that her rambunctious protesting had offended a nearby police officer/monster in obnoxious disguise.

 _Anyway, so the explosion-_

It all went down at exactly what Florence presumed to be the time Jared would just be starting his lunch break at. There was a small, lightly muffled _boom_ from somewhere relatively nearby, and then there was lots of _rushing_ and then there was lots of thudding and _gunfire_ and, worst of all, a horrifying amount of _psychotic, maniacal laughter._

Could this be one of the many infamous asylum break outs she'd read and heard about? Could this be one of The Joker's assaults on the place to save his Queen?

It turned out that it _was_ , in fact, one of _those -_ the latter, that is. Harley came _flying_ and skidding and flailing down the corridor with a shrill "wheeeeeeee!". That guard from _earlier_ followed shortly afterwards, an odd _skip_ to his step, and then (with a noticeable amount of room put between them) came Poison Ivy. She seemed to float more than stroll. Florence _jumped_ and almost startled herself right off her bed when there was an alarming _thump_ and a squeaking sound that turned out to be Harley Quinn slamming first her hands and then her face against the transparent front to Florence's cell,

"Heya, _kid!_ Ain't you the one who gave the pig _what for_ earlier? Isn't she, Pammy? Wouldn't you _say_?"

Florence blinked, terrified. Harley Quinn had deemed her violent act memorable.

Ivy drifted closer, _just like a damn cloud_ , and put two fingers to her chin, supporting her elbow with her other hand. What an absolutely perfected thinking pose.

"Why, Harley, I think you may actually be right. Could you be the little eco-warrior I've been hearing about? Pray _tell_..."

Florence opened her mouth but couldn't actually formulate a sentence. Luckily for her, Harley desired speaking time again,

"Hey, _puddin'_ \- can we take this one with us? Pretty _please_?" Harley cooed.

Florence frowned in contemplative confusion. Puddin'? Isn't that what she called-

Oh, _no_.

Florence stiffened up in horror, her senses clocking into overworking themselves. Oh, no, no, no, no, _no_.

This was _bad_. This was _The Joker_.

The _guard from earlier_ reached around and removed his mask, nasty metal grin and bright red lips appeared before stark white skin, facial tattoos and luminescent green hair completed the rest of his image. So this was _him_ , then. He looked so... clown like.

" _This one_ has got simply _too many_ cogs all, uh, _working_ and _spinning_ up there, honey. She's a mouse among _rats_ , a sheep amongst _wolves_ , a frog among wi-"

" _Yes,_ Clown, we _get it._ " Ivy interrupted with a dismissive wave and an annoyed pinch to her face. Those two just did not get on, did they? The stories were true, then...

" _Now_ , little dewdrop, I think I'd quite _like_ a pretty little thing all to myself. _Joker_ has one, so why shouldn't I?"

"You're _riiiiight_ , Pammy. You should just _go_ for it! Train the gal up real good to help ya protect all them plants!" Harley cheered, swinging on The Joker's arm. The Clown Prince of Darkness himself was staying eerily quiet - which would be relieving if Florence wasn't so concerned about what _bad things_ that could mean he was thinking up. It was uncharacteristic for an ego-maniac narcissist such as himself to be so willing to let the girls take the spotlight. He wasn't focusing his unnerving gaze on any one thing, either. The Joker appeared to be lost in his own head.

Florence licked her lips, dragging her attention away from The Joker's state back to Poison Ivy. So what was... she offering, exactly? Florence opened her mouth and took a breath in to say this with, when Ivy interrupted her before she'd begun and denied her the choice.

"Come along, then, little rose, we've got a _fair_ amount of primping and poison tasting and honing of your skills to do before you can be deemed worthy of being _mine_ ," Ivy announced all of this as if disclosing that she wished to give Florence a little makeover, and then with a swipe from one of the guards' ( _stolen_ ) international keycards, Ivy set her free and wafted off ahead - Harley and Joker following behind like psychotic little vultures, waiting to find some fun.

Florence had no control over herself, trailing lamely behind Ivy's beauteous figure. Abruptly, Ivy twirled, having the effect of a sunflower twisting about in the wind, and grasped at Florence's chin. There was no concept of personal space, now. Ivy was right _there_ and so glorious and intoxicating...

Florence was stunned, caught up in this worship-like feeling of pure _awe_.

She was face to face with an _angel..._

 _"_ Tell me, dear, what's your name?"

"It's, uh..." Florence uttered, not able to complete the sentence as she was just not _able_ to think of her own name when Ivy was so _close_ like this.

"Hmm... no... you need a new one, you're right..." Ivy nodded graciously, as if Florence had just said something aloud that she had been thinking all along.

Poison Ivy _purred_ in an extremely melodic fashion, vine green eyes scouring the ins and outs and planes of Florence's face, until _finally_ , her fantastic lips parted and her flawless eyebrows lifted slightly, and she exclaimed;

"Nova! Your name shall be Nova, and you shall be _mine_."


	2. Chapter 2: Its You and Me, Now

Cute little vines wrapped securely around her wrists - working not only as an insurance that she would behave and follow along like a good little... love slave/pet, or whatever she was - but also as a sign that she was the _property of Poison Ivy_. What a scary, world shakingly terrifying thought.

Florence-

Well, no, it _wasn't Florence_ anymore, was it?

Now she was _Nova._

Something about it just... called to her. She _liked_ it. Oh, god. She really did. It worked. It felt right. Why did it feel _right_? An _eco-terrorist_ had given her this name. The very same eco-terrorist was dragging her along with _vine shackles_ like a glorified pet. A version of Florence looking at this situation from the outside would have wondered _why_ Florence was still walking and functioning and acting like this was all just a routine part of her day. If asked about this very situation, Florence would have predicted she would faint. But she didn't. Just like everything else that had happened to her that same day; she was perfectly, worringly _fine_. Shit... did this mean she was insane already? No _sane_ person would be so _okay_ with all of this, would they?

Shock. It was just shock. It would hit her later like the most twisted pile of bricks in existence.

It was all so surreal. Maybe her body and her mind just had no idea or plan on how to deal with this.

... Yeah. Florence was sure it was just that.

 _A deep breath in, a deep breath out._

It didn't help that The Joker was giving his own very _distorted_ and chilling rendition of Tchaikovsky's _Swan Lake._ Harley was stopping every now and again to press such _loud_ kisses to his person that Florence could hear her _lips smacking_ as she gave them. Not that she would comment, but, damn...

Get a _cell_.

Florence was tempted to chuckle at her own inside joke, but once again, no sound came out. Another sign of shock. Okay. Phew. Okay. This would be okay. She'd escape them somehow. They'd get distracted by the cops, or _Batman_ , or just... _something_. Their focus surely wasn't the best, considering that they were all psychotic, anti-social freaks. _Okay_ , _that was mean_ \- her unwanted inner monologue chided her. Florence felt the urge to slap at her head. The very moment she _thought_ that, The Joker whacked at his own head - again and again and again until Harley managed to wrestle his arm away from himself, with little cries of "Puddin', no! Focus! Focus!". It was all extremely disturbing to witness - to be in the _vicinity_ of.

'Puddin' seemed to pull himself together, escaping the trappings of his own mind. If Florence had been a psychology major, she was sure it would have been fascinating to watch. _Harley_ had been a psychology major, and _she'd_ fallen in love with the loon. Florence shuddered, quickly averting her eyes when The Joker's slightly-too-wide, soul bearing eyes drifted her way. The man was barely _lucid_. Harley Quinn was _glaring_ at Florence now, positioned slightly in front of The Joker as if to shield him, block him out from view,

"Don't you _dare_ judge him you little doe-eyed _burden_!" She shrieked, her lithe frame trembling with the fury on behalf of her lover. Florence blinked, once again stunned into paralysis.

"I... no, no... I wasn't- I just- I was thinking about psychology..." she tried to explain, trying to calm the volatile blonde _down_ before she bashed Florence's head in. They'd find nothing of _use_ even if they did, anyway. At least that would be an _escape-_

What the f-

She shouldn't be having thoughts like that.

No. Snap out of it. _Positive_ outlook.

Harley cocked her head at Florence, eyebrows furrowed in shrewd consideration. She was still bristling, stationed protectively in front of her psychotic lover as if to shield him from any and all harm - petty or otherwise. Eventually, she seemed to accept Florence's answer, a prim little 'hmm!' leaving her. It was upbeat and spunky and bubbly. Florence let herself relax, her shoulders sliding back down into their normal position after being raised along with the breath she'd been holding.

"I ain't too sure you're _sane_ , honey," Harley complimented in her heavy New Yorker accent. Florence sighed and ducked her head by way of acknowledgement, agreement. Florence had been starting to think that herself.

"So she has a few screws loose! Who _cares_! All the _best_ ones are _insane_ , Harley-girl!" The Joker exclaimed out of nowhere, back in his main persona - which seemed to be that of a circus master, or something.

"You're absolutely right, Mistah J! Just look at _us_!"

" _Oh, I'm looking..."_ Joker _purred_ at his little harlequin, and Florence turned away, feeling this overwhelming _wrongness_ about watching them. It was like she was intruding. It was their own little twisted, whacked up world and she was _intruding._

"You're a sweet kid," Harley bounced past her with a little pat to her head.

Ivy gave this great, all encompassing, melodramatic _sigh_ from up ahead and waved her hand about in the space beside her, not bothering to turn to see what the clown couple were up to.

"I'd like to actually break out of this hellhole at some point today, if that's quite alright with the two of _you?"_

Ivy didn't ask Florence. Of course she didn't. So Florence just stood there, hands extended out in front of her and kept in place by vines. They were in one of the corridors _not_ housing any inmates, so there was enough peace and lack of distraction for The Joker to focus properly and direct them all towards the exit.

Said peace didn't last too long, though, and soon they emerged into a corridor lined with cells upon cells. Men and women _leered_ and wolf whistled and hollered and cheered, cackling and whooping and howling in celebration. All the attention _burned_ at her - itched at her skin. Florence _hated_ it. It was like she was being paraded around naked in front of a crowd of judges. It was difficult to make out any distinct phrases or well wishes or sentiments, but there was the regular, recognisable shouts of:

"You go, Joker! Show 'em who's _boss!"_

 _"_ All bow for the King and Queen of Gotham!"

"Set us free, boss! Set _me free_!"

There were seldom to no shouts for Ivy. She didn't take on any goons often, and she didn't really mingle or socialise with the outer criminal world. She mainly kept to herself and thrived off the fact that people _feared_ her.

A man in a cell to the right of her was calling out to Florence, calling her... _things_ and making kissy noises.

Shockingly enough, Ivy actually _stopped_ to address this. She drifted over to the inmate like a cool summer breeze, and extended her hand. A little flower curled into the cell through the little holes penetrating the glass (for oxygen purposes, obviously) and a pinkey-orange _puff of something_ sprayed into the cell, right next to the man's face. Ivy smiled oh, so _sweetly_ and waved to the man as he slumped and fell with a _thud_ to the floor of his cell; lifeless. Florence was stunned - _horrified_. Had _Poison Ivy_ just _killed a man for leering at her?_

Ivy turned to her then, index and middle fingers propping up her chin from the under side, tilting Florence's face towards her,

"It's you and me now, _Nova_ ," she cooed.

And she was _right_. Joker and Harley had danced on ahead, revelling in all the attention and the cheering. Those two really were the perfect double act.

Florence let her teeth graze down on her lower lip, eyes flitting between Ivy's own. The unnervingly green eyes that stared back at her did not move or try to look back into _both_ of her eyes. They simply locked on her face with a cool, serene fixation that was both incredibly soothing and undeniably disturbing. Florence nodded, not really having much choice in the matter. And so they carried on, Ivy sauntering ahead while Florence was left to trail behind in her wake, vines wrapped around her wrists and eyes wide, lip intercepted by her pearly whites.

A guard darted towards them from around the next corner and in the next second he was flung to the side, to the _wall_ by a large, unwieldly vine that appeared from Ivy's person. Florence licked at her lips again. Her mouth was so _dry_. Her mind was so _foggy_. Her hair flew about her as she whipped her head to the side, towards the entire squad of guards that tried to come at them from the corner on the parallel side to the other one. Great big _trunk like_ stalks sprouted from the ground and split all the men into pieces. It really was the most gruesome thing Florence had ever _seen_ \- but it was also just so slightly _thrilling_ \- and the thought of that alone sent Florence right into a spiral of worry. She was far too concerned with this to spare any worry for the rest of the opposition they faced on their way out of the asylum, too.

Florence was numb. She was not Florence.

She wasn't even _'Nova'._

She just _was_.

And that was all.

With a great billowing of intricate red curls, Ivy rounded on her once more and cupped Florence's cheek,

"How are you feeling, my little chrysanthemum? Are you sad? Yes? Well, I'll grant you one more chance to feel it before you're not allowed it anymore. After _all_ , blossom, it's your _birthday_ today! Your very first birthday!"

"It is?"

" _Yes,_ my little raindrop."

There was something entirely too disingenious about the way Ivy was speaking to her that had Florence wondering if perhaps it was all meant somewhat viciously.

Poison Ivy didn't care about _people_ , she knew that. She knew it because of long nights where she'd stayed up scouring the web for information on Gotham's most deadly. Poison Ivy only cared about _plants_.

Florence licked her lips as was habit by now, and hoped that maybe she could use this piece of trivia to keep herself _alive_. She cleared her throat and straightened herself up a little.

"I planted a Schlumbergera Bridgesii cactus today."

Ivy took a clear interest in this, her forced, patronising smile slipping into a more genuine one.

"You did?"

"I _did_. So now I share my birthday with a cactus."

Ivy cocked her head, eyes narrowed in a way that was almost beyond notice as she carefully examined Florence's expression. Now _this_ was dangerous. If Ivy decided Florence was mocking her or being disingenious about her love for plants, then it would surely be a death sentence. Poison Ivy didn't _fuck around_ with those who disrespected her. She was a creature who teetered on the line between being emotionless and emotional. It would be _hard_ to keep up with, but if Florence wanted to _live_ (and the more dominant part of her mind was saying ' _yes, yes, yes,_ _ **yes**_ _you do!')_ then she would need to appease this plant... _Goddess_.

It was even harder to resist being completely smitten with the woman. It was her natural aroma, her scent and her pheromones trick that attracted people to her - convinced them that they were _in love_ with her the moment they set eyes on her. From what Florence had found online, apparently it lessened over time until you became completely resilient to it, but that it was incredibly _powerful_ and one of Ivy's strongest weapons in her arsenal. Florence let in and out the quietest of bracing breaths. She could do this. She knew plants. She knew a little about Poison Ivy. She knew about _plants_.

Arriving at Poison Ivy's... abode... was a different matter. The first thing surely _anyone_ noticed had to be the gigantic, overbearing greenhouse that towered above anything else in the area. And really, what else _was_ there in the area? Not much. Nothing seemed to be occupied. So they were isolated. So Florence couldn't go to the neighbours for help if she escaped.

Fantastic. Of _course_.

Florence ground her teeth together as they pulled up, craning her neck to try and spy the actual _house_. As was predictable, it was about the size the damn _greenhouse_ should have been - tucked back over there amongst the hybrid trees.

"Out of the car, meat-bag. We've got things to do."

This version of Ivy's voice was a lot different to the one she'd been using on Florence while they'd been fleeing the asylum. It was hard and no-nonsense. It was tough and uncaring and... _cold_. Florence shivered, and there was an abrupt, sharp pain in her arms when Ivy yanked harshly on the vines, dragging Florence forcefully right out of the car and onto the ground. So her mood was matching her tone of voice, then? If she was _always_ like that with her moods...

They could be fairly easy to anticipate. Florence recognised she might just be able to get by on this hope. It was the only thing keeping her all glued together. That and the fact that she was still in shock. Without her shock and her extremely, _extremely_ delayed reactions, Florence knew she would crumble. The glue would lose it's cohesion, and the entire structure of her very being would just fall apart before Poison Ivy, and Poison Ivy would _laugh_.

She'd call her a useless meat-bag.

Barely two hours with the villainess and Florence already knew that.

Ivy tugged her along after her into the house, her hands drifting over various plants and potted plants in caresses and pats and soothing gestures. Each and every plant reacted - nuzzling and responding to her. It was the _most_ fascinating thing - even more so than The Joker slapping himself again and again and again up the side of the head. But that was because the plants were _alive_. Florence had already _known_ that The Joker was insane. She had _not_ known that Ivy's plants were physically, visibly, _noticeably alive_. With another one of her silent bracing breaths, Florence held her hand out experimentally towards one of the plants. For a moment or two, it curled around her index finger, leaves rustling and vines slithering like the body of a snake - but then it realised she was a stranger. She was foreign. She didn't not _belong_ and she was not Ivy, and so she was rejected. The plant recoiled like she'd tried to _burn_ it, and Ivy's hand came out of nowhere and slapped Florence's hand away from her baby.

"You're very bold to attempt something like that, but know that _boldness_ does not get you anywhere. Plants have spent many millennia trampled and massacred by mankind - so _they_ will not trust you and _I_ will not trust you until you are _not you_ anymore. We will trust you when you are _Nova_ , and nobody and _nothing_ else," she hissed, all venom and brutality.

Florence didn't know what to say. She felt the little seeds of guilt unfurling and sprouting inside of her, whining away at her for the truths in Ivy's words. So she hung her head in a nod and she behaved herself. No more bothering the plants, she decided.

But... Ivy had said...

How did she _become Nova?_

What - she wanted Florence to legally change her _name?_

It was such a cryptic thing to _say_ to somebody. It could be interpreted so many _ways_.

"Come, pet, we need to start _fixing_ you. You're scaring my babies." Poison Ivy beckoned to her as if she was a disobedient, unruly dog, and snatched her closer when she ventured close enough. With a melodical hum, Ivy took a hold of her face, angling it about as she murmured,

"I grew up a wealthy woman, you know... my name was Pamela Lillian Isley, and I was the most sought out, the most desirable, the most _beautiful_ bachelorette in all of Seattle. Of _course_ none of this was ever good enough for Mummy and Daddy, dear. Oh, no... that would have meant that I had everything, and we _all_ know nobody is allowed _that_. They told me my _looks_ were all I was good for... made it clear to me there was nothing of worth inside of my head. So sweet little Pamela, she packs up her bags and her wounded pride and her stubborn determination to _please_ them, and she took off to study advanced botanical biochemistry at the most _prestigious_ university she could find. Pammy had _always_ had an affinity with plants, you see. So she studies and studies and as is the disturbingly _common_ practice in university - she fell for her Professor. Doctor... Jason... Woodrue... he'd so much as _wave_ at the girl and she'd be ready to faint. It was _pathetic_. Doctor Jason Woodrue _knew_ it was pathetic, little cherry blossom, you see. He _understood_ that, and he did what man _always_ does and he _exploited_ her and he _wrecked_ her like he _wrecked_ the poor little helpless, innocent plants he experimented on. But you see, Nova, _plants_ were simply _not enough_ for Doctor Jason Woodrue. He needed a _test subject_ \- and there was timid, shy, _smitten_ little Pamela. She would have followed him to the ends of the _earth_ and she would have _died_ for him, and she almost did! Doctor Jason Woodrue arranged for their study sessions to become a more physical experience, where he would inject her with various poisons and toxins as an _experiment_. Pamela almost died _twice_ for him, and it drove her right off the edge. He drove her _insane_ and then he _left her_ to _rot_ in a hospital bed for six whole months. Imagine the extent of damaged little Pamela's heartbreak... the _betrayal_ was too much for her and she suffered the most _violent mood swings_. Eventually, she got out and after accidentally _murdering_ her next boyfriend, Pamela Isley moved to _Gotham_ and focused on the only thing that would never hurt, ruin or _betray_ her - her plants. But it's not enough, little dew-drop. It. Is. Not. Enough. She _snaps_ and threatens to poison everyone in Gotham unless they _left_. This was where Batman came into the story, of course. She was thwarted and _ruined_ once again, and she was sent to _Arkham Asylum_. Pammy couldn't _control_ Batman the way she controls others, and this made her _furious_ and _vengeful_ and so she developed her powers and honed them until she was _lethal_. You're probably wondering now, my pretty little thing, _why_ Pamela didn't just _leave Gotham_ and find some... barren, deserted island somewhere. The thing _was_ that she'd _tried_ that. She'd even been _happy_. The plants had been thriving and for once they weren't _screaming_ , Nova. But then there was the _firebomb-_ "

Ivy cut off at this point, her riveting and _heartbreaking_ story interrupted by sobs and, of all things... actual _tears_. They were ever so slightly tinged green. It was... it was strangely beautiful. Everything about Poison Ivy was.

Stop it.

Stop. It.

She's controlling the way you feel about her.

"And so you see, my little protégé... I respect your morals. I respect your drive and your passion and I _desire_ to have you around to look at. But _more importantly_... the plants need a Champion. I can't keep them _safe_ all by myself! You love them, don't you? They _need_ you..."

Ivy was drawing dangerously closer now, venomous green eyes wide and imploring - and something was _tugging_ at Florence's _heart_.

"You'll be my _Champion_ , won't you, Nova?"

"...Yes." Nova breathed, entranced body and _soul_ by this woman and her cause and the _tragedy_ of her story. The plants _needed_ her. They _needed_ her. They were _crying out-_

Nova had to help them. It was her duty, and Poison Ivy had chosen _her_...

There couldn't be a greater honour.

A beauteous, charming, _deadly_ smile took up precedence on Ivy's face, and she _grinned_ \- revealing teeth.

 _"Wonderful,"_ she _snarled_ and plunged a needle right into Florence's arm, she pushed down the pulley until the toxic contents of the vial the needle had been connected to had completely emptied into her.

 _It burned._

 _IT **BURNED**_.

Florence _screamed_ but Ivy didn't care. She tossed the used up vial over her shoulder while Florence _writhed_ and _roared in agony_ and tried to escape, but the _plants_ kept her there. Ivy was screwing on _another vial_ now and this time the contents was a _nasty, toxic dark purple_. It _looked_ like the poison that it was.

 ** _ITBURNEDITBURNEDITBURNED_** ** _ITBURNEDITBURNEDITBURNED_** ** _ITBURNEDITBURNEDITBURNED_** ** _ITBURNEDITBURNEDITBURNED_** ** _ITBURNEDITBURNEDITBURNED_** ** _ITBURNEDITBURNEDITBURNED-_**

Poison Ivy injected her again and again until Florence seized up and passed out.

Something was dripping.

Something was dripping and someone was _humming_ and Florence couldn't _move_.

A small groan escaped her cracked, aching lips and she tried to shift about - to sit up. She couldn't. She was _strapped down_ and attached to a... was that an _IV?_ Was Florence in the _hospital?_

Everything had been a _dream-_

No hospital room looked like _this_ , did it? Vines and flowers and branches completely covered and even _coccooned_ the room - and unless this was some kind of a sick _prank_ , Florence had a horrifying, dooming idea of exactly where she could be. The woman that was humming in the corner stood up and came into view and _then_ Florence knew she'd been right. She began to sob, trying to thrash about, but she was still _strapped down_ and _restricted_. Her insides were _eating her up_. There was this vague, numbing pain coming from... from _somewhere_.

She ached.

Poison Ivy gazed down at her like she was a vaguely interesting butterfly she'd rescued from a net.

"Oh, you're alive..." Ivy commented casually, petting at the budding cactus in the pot in her palm. Florence wanted to _cry_ but she was _barren_ and dehydrated. She _couldn't. SHE **COULDN'T**_.

SHE COULDN'T.

Something was ringing incessantly at her inside her own mind. There were just...

There were too many things going on at once.

Florence felt sick.

"P-Please, just... just take me _home_ ," she cried, unable to see Ivy properly now due to the massive build up of impossible tears her body had somehow dredged up into her eyes, "my name is _Florence Caldwell_ and I live-"

 _"Wrong!"_ Ivy called out, chidingly. She leaned down to cup Florence's cheeks and cooed, "Your name is _Nova_ , dear."

Florence wanted to murder her. If her hands weren't strapped down the way they were she _swore_ she would have risen up and _wrung the venomous bitch's neck_.

Florence shuddered, her eye twitching. She'd just shrieked inside her own mind. The _concept_ of _murder_ had been so, _so_ appealing.

This was _not_ good.

"What have you done to me?" She asked in a shrill, trembling little husk of a whisper.

"I made you like me, only... weaker. Can't have you more _powerful_ than I am, can we? It would just _ruin_ the hierarchy."

 _"Why-"_

"Call out to the flowers," Ivy demanded, bringing a small mirror over to her with the help of a vine to showcase Nova's new appearance to herself.

Nova _screamed_.

 _No._

Her eyes had been cerulean blue but were now a vicious, aggressive, _toxic_ green that were vaguely _luminescent_ in the dull lighting. Her lower lip trembled. Her _skin_ was... it was _green_. She whimpered. The vines and leaves that were a _part_ of her skin were nowhere near as impressive as Ivy's and didn't even cover much of her, but they were _there._ Florence began to cry. Great, world shaking sobs wracked at her chest.

No.

Florence was gone now.

Florence _died_ and nobody knows. Nobody will mourn because nobody _knows_.

Florence died and Nova was born and she'd had no choice in any of it.


	3. Chapter 3: Recuperation

Nova wasn't sure at which point she actually _became_ Nova - mainly because she wasn't aware of things like time or the date, or how much of either was really passing. At first she tried to count the seconds and the minutes and the hours, but it was hard to focus on it and near impossible to keep up when she had nothing to note her progress down on. Poison Ivy would never tell her when she asked, either. All she wanted to talk about was _plants_. She sometimes sat right by the bed, and sometimes she sat over in her little throne armchair in the corner, and she spoke about _plants_. Non-stop _plants_. It was all Nova heard for (what she assumed was) days and days on end.

That was until she started to receive visitors.

It appeared Ivy, even being the anti-social misanthrope that she was, had let the criminal world know about Nova's... 'birth'.

And so, every now and again, she would receive a few visitors. It felt exactly like she were a newborn baby, and _everyone_ was coming to meet Poison Ivy's newborn little baby girl for the first time. They _talked_ to her and _treated_ her like a baby, too. Well, most of them did. Some appraised her, all broken and ruined and half dead, and spoke as if she were a new _weapon_ they might be interested in buying. The man formerly known as Oswald Cobblepot and _currently_ known as Penguin was one she remembered. Penguin had looked at her that way and appraised her and inquired about her and had even made an offer to buy her services, and of course Ivy had kicked him out, but he had this hardy determination in his eye. He was the only one Nova worried over.

Ivy wasn't too impressed with those people and they weren't allowed to stay for long. She'd kick them out and then do that disingenuous cooing over Nova that she'd performed at the asylum. Nova didn't speak to her. She didn't speak to anyone.

Eventually, the Clown Couple themselves showed up - gifts and grenades in hand. They carried them like they were flowers and handled them very carelessly. Nova was half dead anyway, so she couldn't find it within herself to care too much. Ivy just seemed to be used to it by now, but she still shooed and hissed and snapped at them and nagged at them to hurry up and leave with their explosives and their unwanted gifts.

"We heard your little leaf had been, uh, how do I say this?" Joker actually paused for dramatic effect, "A victim to a _toxic rainstorm_ , and so we scrounged some time out of our busy, _busy_ , oh so _busy_ schedule. And look! The leaf is _just_ as battered as they say! What'd you _do,_ Pammy? Stick the girl with needles and smash her about with a hammer? Lock her in a room with a load of ravenous, rabid aligators? Strap her to a rocket and light it with some dynamite? What did you _do?"_

His concern, of course, was all entirely fake.

Ivy sighed and pinched at the bridge of her nose,

"The _first_ guess is the closest to it, minus the hammer."

"So you just... you pumped her fulla... _nasty_ stuff?" Harley shrilled, mouth all slack as if she were appalled. Who knew? Maybe she really was.

"I made her like _me_ , Harley. It was a gift and she wanted it."

Nova let out an outraged cry, but she'd already been gagged, and so none of the words could be heard well enough to be deemed understandable. Harley frowned, lower lip jutting. Joker _grinned_ , savagery all over his pasty, tattooed face.

"Oh, don't tell me you _disapprove_ , Harley. You _jumped into a huge vat of chemicals for_ _ **him**_." Ivy snapped, examining her nails.

"See, Harley, this is how it goes _down_ when you argue with vegetables," The Joker intercepted, checking his watch, "Daddy's on a schedule, baby. We have a, uh, _Bat-train_ to catch!"

"Oh, _puddin'!_ I thought we weren't _doin'_ the train thing!"

"Consider it a... _gift_. Merry _Christmas_ , baby!"

"It's June," Ivy monotoned, rolling her eyes. Harley and Joker were too wrapped up in their quirky 'hooray's and their mad 'huzzah's. After finally, _finally_ calming down, Harley skipped out to go wait in the car and The Joker strolled over to press his J ring to the gag in Nova's mouth. This seemed to pass well enough for him as a kiss to the ring - a symbol of his immense criminal profile. Ivy looked at it in disdain when it was offered to her and said something like: "I'm not going anywhere near _that thing_. Who knows where it's been?"

Joker set fire to twelve plants on his way out as a form of punishment, and Ivy had to rush around to distinguish them all.

Luckily, _blissfully_ , this granted Nova some time alone. Alone with her thoughts, alone with the pain, alone with all the _plants_ , alone with... nothing and nobody. She remembered Ivy had been boasting about how Nova's recovery time would be _half_ of what Ivy's had been, because she'd created the perfect antidote for the damage that had been done inside of her. She'd also claimed Nova needed _photosynthesis_ in order to heal effectively now, as she was more plant than she was human. The plants seemed to agree. They were everywhere - all around her all the time. They curled their way around her paralysed form and behaved like needy _cats,_ nuzzling at her and demanding her attention. The thing that came across as the most _disturbing_ to her was that as time went on, the part of her that _adored it_ was growing larger and more and more dominant all the time. Sometimes she slipped up inside her own mind and referred to the plants as 'babies' or 'children'.

Just like Poison Ivy did out _loud_.

Nova wanted nothing about them to be similar. Her hatred of that woman was burning so strong that even Ivy's pheromone trick couldn't force her to dote on the villainess again. Ivy was very, _very_ irritated by the fact.

And so, what Nova was told to be three and a half months passed. Kept alive by nothing but _photosynthesis_ and nourishment from... whatever it was Ivy was administering to her.

Eventually the day came where Ivy removed the straps that held her down and assisted her in sitting up. Ivy perched herself on the bed next to her, venomous eyes trained on her every inhale and exhale, her every alteration of gaze, her every movement, and no doubt her every _thought_ , if she could have. Nova bristled under the scrutiny. The plants curled themselves around her in places and helped her with the task of staying upright. They fed her, too, lending her their energy through contact alone. It was... a _blessing_. How could anyone wish to harm such caring, generous things such as these plants?

Yes, it was true that she needed to protect them.

Yes, it was true it was her duty.

But it was _not true_ that Nova had _wanted_ this.

A deep surge of pure, tantalising _rage_ unfurled inside of her. _Months_ spent gagged and unable to speak for herself. Denied the modesty and privacy for things such as using the bathroom or washing came to mind. The _humiliation_ of having countless criminals stop by to gawk at her and comment on her wrecked, ruined, _obliterated_ body with only Ivy to speak on her behalf. _Ivy,_ who was a narcissistic, heartless, cruel, ego-maniacal, abusive _monster_. An internal bout of _devastation_ wracked through her at the thought of the many, _many_ times Ivy had tried to win her favour back with pheromone laced kisses Nova had _never_ consented to. Sitting up just then had felt so entirely like she was _falling_ \- falling, with no hope of a soft landing or a parachute or a hero piloting a jet coming to save her. Nova wanted to tear, to rip, to break free of the _thing_ she had become. Ivy had forced her to become a monster, and not even _just_ because the ' _plants needed her_ ' - but because it was so clear to see that the bitch was _lonely_ and needed so desperately to _not be the only one_. Nova refused to give her that. She would not grant those desires. She would _not_ stick around to validate Ivy's existence or to _look pretty_ for her. She would not be her little _protégé_ , or her _love pet,_ or whatever else Ivy had in mind for her. Nova didn't _need_ to be around Poison Ivy to help the plants of Gotham. No. She didn't need to be anywhere _near_ her so called benevolent 'creator'.

Ivy looked unbelievably proud of herself and her work. She cupped at Nova's cheek and played with the girl's hair with her free hand.

Nova clenched her fist, trying not to let the strain show in her forearms as she sat motionless under Ivy's petting and admiration. She needed to wait for the right time. The key _moment_ \- and then she could be free.

She'd even play along... if that's what it took.

Nova allowed her expression to soften, to become awed. The very corners of her lips curved upwards into a beautiful smile and her eyebrows arched in blissful disbelief of what was before her. This was the look she'd seen Harley fix The Joker with, and she copied it to a _tee_. It was enough. Ivy was fooled - happy to play the all-giving, all-loving creator,

"Everything is so... _beautiful_. The _plants_..." Nova breathed in faux wonder.

Ivy's fingers trailed in carresses along her cheekbone, intoxicatingly sweet breath fanning against her skin as she laughed,

"This is only where it _begins_ , petal. You and I are going to take over all of Gotham... and then... the _world_."

She spoke it as if it were a sacred vow between them, and Nova nodded along gamely.

"And then... the plants can be free?" She asked hopefully, taking on the role of a _child_.

"Yes, my sweet little thing. No more bombs or fires or _men_ to ruin the world."

"Paradise..."

"Precisely."

Nova's little act must have been very convincing, as Ivy patted at her cheek and then wafted away to go and tend to the plants The Joker had targeted with his tantrum.

"Stay here and let the plants nourish you," she'd ordered on her way out.

Easy.

She was making it too easy.

The world... brightened, suddenly, and then _darkened_ immeasurably, in the same instant. Voices were...

No, not voices. Giggles.

 _What was so funny?!_

Nova gritted her teeth in indignance. Something scurried across the room.

A shadow?

Another _thing_ scurried across the ceiling.

Scratchy, shimmering, neon writing appeared all over the walls in a flash and disappeared just as promptly. Nova squinted, rubbing at her eyes. She'd made out a few of the words, she reckoned-

Escape. Goddess. BURNING. Muted.

A noise ran through her head like _static. Radio static._

She shuddered, dragging herself out of the bed. It was a bit of a struggle to find her balance; to stay upright. The babies- _plants_ were all too eager to help. Like a newborn baby deer, or a _fawn_ , Nova stumbled through the other door to the outside world - the one that _wasn't_ the one Ivy had left through. This meant she was able to make her way, slowly but somehow surely, round the back of the house. One foot in front of the other. Just keep going. It's getting _easier_. As discussed before, there was nothing and nobody for miles around. No other _occupied_ houses, no vehicles to escape with.

Her plan was quickly falling down the drain.

 _Well, she'd **walk** if she had to._

Barely a step beyond the bounds of the property and a vine wrapped harshly around her ankle and _tugged_ her backwards with a harsh _yank_. She was lifted right off her feet and landed face first on the grassy terrain. _Friction_ and speed worked against her to leave her _burning all over_ once again as she was dragged backwards through the dirt. Screams and cries left her in droves but her captor simply granted her no sympathy or care. Yanked off the ground at last to dangle upside down before Ivy, she sobbed and tried to scream but her throat was raw and still damaged.

"Oh, _no_ , sweetheart. Did you really think me foolish enough to _fall for_ your pathetic attempts at acting?" Ivy cooed harshly, _tugging_ on Nova's hair hard enough to make her believe she was going to lose it.

 _"LET. ME._ ** _GO!_** _"_ Nova roared, thought it felt like it was ripping her throat to _shreds_. A plant, much smaller than Ivy's, but empowered by the sheer rage Nova was holding inside herself, rose slowly from a spot just behind Ivy, slightly to the right of her, and trembled with it's need to be _more_. Nova had no idea how to _give_ it that, but through sheer will and determination (and also, possibly, a somehow still lingering sense of self preservation) she got it to _move_. It quaked a little at first and merely swayed, but then, see, Nova got _frustrated_ and she gave it a _push_ with everything she had building up inside her, and it _flung itself straight at Ivy_.

It knocked her right off her feet.

Nova was about to go for the second hit when something _sliced_ right through the vine that was holding her with the efficiency of a knife slicing through soft butter. It whirred around above her head as she fell, returning to it's owner. For the second time, Nova hit the ground face first. _Ow_.

The scratchy neon writing flashed again. The edges of the _world_ quaked and trembled and shook for her. It was like being dizzy and upside down and-

 _WHAT WAS SO FUNNY?!_

"Florence Caldwell?" A extremely gruff voice inquired from somewhere either above or behind her. Nova grasped at the grass and the dirt and dug her nails and her fingers into it to give her something to hold on to in order to assist in hauling her up to confront the... voice.

She already had too many of those.

"Help-" Nova was yanked away from him, a vine around her _throat_ , a strangled gasp took up the remainder of what she had been about to say.

 _"Walk away, Batman! This one is **mine** to punish!" _

"That's not going to happen, Ivy."

Nova cried out when her back collided with the glass of the greenhouse, and she screamed when she broke through it, shards of glass cutting at her and embedding themselves in her skin. A quiet, low sob left her, and her spine arched to try and escape the dozens of sharp little points of pain. It was no use. She wasn't allowed to die. Ivy wouldn't let her, she knew, not after all her _work_.

There was conflict outside, a miniature _war_ going on between Batman and Poison Ivy. So the metallic slicing thing that had set her free from Ivy's vine had been... a Batarang?

 _This_ was the moment she had been waiting for. This was her time to escape. If she could _just-_

 _WHAT WAS SO FUNNY?!_

Who was even _laughing?_ Who _was that?_ Harley?

It was just... an octave too low to be Harley Quinn. _But then who was laughing?_

It unnerved her to not _know_ who's laugh that was. It downright disturbed her that she could hear it so clearly that it was like someone was laughing right into her _ear_. She wanted it to stop. She needed it to _stop_. It was driving her-

Oh, but that was the thing. She was no psychologist, she was no _expert_ , but she was hearing voices and _laughter_ and she was experiencing _mood swings_ and everything was just so... so... _heightened_. It was probably a good thing that she was _aware_ of her own wavering mental state, but that didn't change the fact that it was _wavering_. There was all the neon... flashing... scratching... and the...

Oh, God. Her mind was so _fucked_.

Another thing to despise Poison Ivy for. Another thing to kill her for.

 _Tear her apart_.

She would.

Nova struggled with it but she achieved the feat of pulling herself upwards and clambering out of the broken side of the greenhouse, away from the glass and the brown flower pots and the fertiliser. If she thought it had been near impossible to manage walking before, it was _nothing_ compared to now. Every single flex of a _muscle_ ached and rocketed raw, overwhelming _pain_ through her system. At least she wasn't burning anymore. At least there was no fire shooting through her veins and at least she could _move_. _She could move_. Staggering past the fight and out into the world, to a place that was safe, was _all_ she had to do.

 _Come on, kid. You've beaten worse odds_.

A vine shot out from Ivy to knock Batman aside, but somehow he _caught it_ and used it to close the distance between them and swiftly delivered a blow to Ivy's face that _cracked_ across the space they occupied. Nova's heart _clenched_ in her cold, dead, ruined chest and blinding, hot rage unfurled once more. _She needed to be doing that. That was **her** right._

This obnoxious, self-righteous impulse is what kept her camped in the position she'd hidden herself in. It was essentially what got her _caught_.

The two of them parried and sent out attacks and defended in turn in such a magnificent display of each of their power that all Nova could do was sit there and stare, uncomprehendingly. But as the battle went on it was quickly made clear that Batman was just that bit faster, just that bit stronger - and it only took two or three missteps and mistakes on Ivy's part for him to swoop in and claim the victory. The very moment Poison Ivy was knocked out and fell to the ground with a _thud_ which was the very opposite of all the grace and elegance that she was, Nova lost control of her composure and her cover, and started to laugh.

Just like the ever constant giggle in her head, she laughed and laughed - like Harley Quinn. Like The Joker. Nova laughed in a manner which could only be described as maniacal, and Batman, unsurprisingly, whipped around towards the noise and closed in. Being such a tiny little lithe thing that she was, Batman only had to wrap one of his gigantic hands around one of her delicate little wrists in order to lift her entire body off of the ground. She was so much _smaller_ than he was. Still, she laughed and cackled and giggled as she swung, and he asked her, once again,

"Florence Caldwell?"

Nova gave a shake of her head through the fits of giggles,

"She _died_ and nobody was around to mourn," she told him, and the hysterical giggles dissolved into tears, and suddenly she was not swaying anymore but drooping in his grasp. He looked... sad for her. Like he was grieving her sanity. It was true. It was nice of him.

"What did Ivy do to you...?" Batman asked her in something akin to, if not horror.

"She _ruined_ me."

"Do you have... Hmm..."

"Lock me up. Do what you want, just... just get me _away_ from here. _Hide me from her. Please._ I am _begging_ you."

Batman sighed but ducked his head in acknowledgement of her plea, and handcuffed her wrists.

Nova slept in The Batmobile, and when she woke - once again, she was back in Arkham Asylum. Back in her cell. But, more importantly than _anything else_ , she was away from _Poison Ivy_.


	4. Chapter 4: Asylum Seeking, Literally

_... Like last night_

 _They are not like tremors_

 _They are worse than tremors_

 _They are these terrors_

 _And it's like_

 _It feels like as if somebody was gripping my throat_

 _And squeezing_

 _And-_

 _They are not like tremors_

 _They are these terrors..._

 **BATMAN**

"It's clear that we don't have the... _facilities_ to house Poison Ivy at Arkham Asylum."

"Which is why I had to leave her where she was." Batman supplied as an explanation for his actions the night before.

"But you took her sidekick?"

"I had no choice, Gordon. She was _begging_ me to hide her from Ivy."

"Hmm... Poor kid. Has anyone figured out _what_ exactly it is Ivy did to the kid?"

"From what I could tell... she tried to make Florence like herself."

"... That's just _wrong_."

"Miss Caldwell feels the same way."

"So what are we going to do with the kid? Did she actually commit any crimes?"

Batman brought up the holographic gadget on his forearm and conducted a brief scan through the database before bringing forth Nova's file, "2 counts of minor assault on an officer of the law and... jailbreak. One I suspect she had less than a minor part to play in."

"You're telling me 2 counts of minor assault on a cop and a breakout from the asylum she wasn't an accomplice to gets her locked up in Arkham? Again?"

"It's the best bet we've got at keeping her out of Ivy's reach. She begged me, Gordon. I said I'd keep her safe from her."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Batman."

Batman nodded, evidently not able to make any promises on the subject. He didn't have the time to stand around discussing this, anyway, he needed to get back to the asylum and work out how he was going to keep the girl safe from Poison Ivy. The problem was that these villains were all powerful and all too familiar with breaking in and out of Arkham Asylum by now. They knew the ins and outs and they knew how to get their way.

That wouldn't happen this time.

 **NOVA**

Nova was... _bored_. It was as simple and as unfortunate as that. She was...

There was...

There was too much going on. _In. Her. Head._

She felt this overbearing need to be _away_ from it all, but... there was no... _away_. Nova was stuck in a little jail cell, after all. It was too closed in for all the... flipping she wanted to do. She wanted to flip and twirl and soar away and live among the clouds, and maybe even Ivy couldn't reach her there...

Nova's eyes widened as she thought this over, her breath leaving her in erratic little puffs. This was a good idea. _A good idea_. Her... she could maybe even get away with it. She could. She _coooouuuuuld_.

"Sparky?" She called to the guard outside her cell. There was an aggravated groan almost instantly. Nova got the impression he actually looked forward to conversing with the inmates. Something about the way he responded or played along told her _Sparky_ was more than willing to interact with the _crazies_.

"That's not my name, lilypad, you _know that_ ," Sparky's response came to a close just as he rounded the corner from his post.

"Oh, no, you're _Sparky_ because you... _spark_ , spark, spark, _**spark**_..." Nova trailed her fingers in little steps across the transparent separator,

"I wasn't the one who electrocuted you, Florence, you know that..."

"No, no, _no_... you weren't the one electrocuting Nova, but you were the one _laughing_ with me."

"Why do you switch between first and third person like that?"

"Like what, _pal?"_

"Do you... know you're doing that? It's like you're-"

A new voice cut across Sparky's. It was new and fresh and male and... _Swedish. Woof._

"You're not her psychologist, Jeremy. I am."

"Doctor...?" Sparky (and yes, she was irritated that everyone insisted that wasn't his name) asked, obviously implying that the good Doctor's name held no merit or relevance in the asylum. Which, to be fair, it didn't.

"Brenner."

He was handsome and reasonably young and blonde, and...

 _Mmmmm._

Poison Ivy would eat someone like him up the moment she met him. Nova was _not_ Poison Ivy. But the... she could sense a possibility for... for exploitation. It was there and she could _take_ it, but there was this insane struggle pitting itself against that part of her already. It was like _green_ and _gold_ were at war with each other. Parts were toxic and withered and dead and those were the hissing wastes of herself. The rest was... _golden_. It was fierce and thriving and impossible to burn down like the other half. It was the lesser section but it was by no means the weaker. It was palpable and solid and even while her brain was warped, Nova could still _feel_ Florence lingering in the depths of herself.

So the _choices_ were in front of her.

But why would she need the choices when she didn't _want_ to escape? She was exactly where she needed and wanted to be, surely. Yes. Yes, she was. She _was_.

But was she?

Ivy had _known_ her. Ivy had picked her name out of _thin air_ and it was so very _perfect_ and it was _her_. She was Nova now. Nova was Nova and she was more plant than human being, and hadn't she always _loved_ plants?

No. Ivy abused and manipulated and _harmed_ her. Ivy had took her choices away from her and-

"Miss Caldwell?"

"Mmm, doc?"

"Are you... lucid?"

"Who knows?"

"Are you seeing things?"

"Could you possibly mean _hallucinating_ , good sir?"

"So your memory's working fine..."

"Oh, my memory is _flawless_ , doc. It's _never_ been so crystal!" Nova broke off into a whining laugh, part of it breaking off into a second part that was something more like a sob. The _good_ doctor looked at her with pity, scratching at his chin. An angry, twisted _spite_ reared itself inside of Nova.

"Don't get it fucking _twisted_ , doctor. _You_ are _no_ better off than _I_ am! We're _both_ stuck in here, _far_ too involved with insanity and psychology and _all_ the ins and outs of the _miiiiind_. The **_only_** _difference_ is that I'm on _this_ side of the glass, and you're over _there_." Nova spat, eyes wide and magnetic like black holes, hands contorted into claws against the glass.

Doctor Brenner had the good grace to try and placate her,

"Nova, please, I need you to understand that I am in _no_ way judging you. I'm just... _really_ bad at keeping up a poker face."

Nova gaped at him for a moment, and then she smirked, and then a giggle slipped past her lips, and then she erupted into a full on, unashamed fit of giggles. Before she knew what was happening it was full blown _maniacal laughter_. Except to _her_ , maniacal was now the new normal kind of laughter. And, _oh_ , not to sound vain; but it was such a beautiful sound.

Doctor Brenner really _was_ bad at keeping a poker face, because he was unable to keep the slow building grin from his face.

 _Oh, but Doctor Brenner, you're really making this far too easy._

But you're not like that, are you? Not like her. No. You do not _want_ that. You want to stay. You do. It's safe here. _She's_ not here.

She's not. Okay.

"Oh, _doc_. That really was funny! Doctor's aren't usually funny. How come I got the _funny doctor?"_

"My father was a comedian, sötis."

"That little word at the end there doesn't sound like it would be deemed entirely _professional_ , Doctor Brenner."

"Probably not, älskling, but we all have our own method when it comes to working."

"It's dangerous to carry on like that," Nova pressed her forehead against the glass, all signs of her demented joy leaving her face as she eyed him, "don't you _know_ how _easy_ it would be for her to _get_ you like this? When she came for _me,_ I took it like a glorified _doormat_ because she was _beautiful!_ Don't you _know_ how she _got_ me?!" Nova was wailing at the glass now, slamming her fists against the harsh material and her eyes streaming with the _toxic_ _green_ tears she was forever doomed to shed.

Once again, Doctor Brenner was back to placating, except that this time, he was also scribbling things down in his little goody two-shoes, Swedish notebook. Nova scowled, her eye twitched.

 _"Manipulator,"_ she snarled, eyes wide and darting between the notebook, his coat, his shoes, his _eyes,_ his hair, his...

Nova jerked her head back and brought it back towards the barrier with a sickening _smack_ ,

 ** _"MANIPULATOR! MANIPULATOR! MANIPULATOR! MANIPULATOR!"_** She _screamed_ at him, bashing her forehead against the glass again and again and again and again and again-

It didn't take long before an entire _fleet_ of guards came rushing in to knock her out with some kind _, sweet_ little drugs to _ease the anxiety_.

 **?**

Patient Therapy: Florence Caldwell - Session One.

"Patient... _018163_. Florence Caldwell-"

 _"Nope."_

"My apologies. Nova."

"Apologies are _words_."

"Words are all we have, are they not?"

"Actions, doc. It's said they speak _louder_."

"You're sounding... more rational today, Nova. Is this due to the change in medication?"

"Rational?"

"Uh, yes. Do you feel... _calmer?"_

"Are you asking me if the little voices in my head and all the flashing _lights_ and the scratchy writing on the _walls_ and the _fury_ has been taken care of? Yes? No? Well, I don't have any of those. I _don't_."

"No, no. Of course you don't. I was asking if you're feeling... better today. You were distressed yesterday."

"That was your fault, doctor. You pushed me. To. The. Limit."

"You called me a _manipulator_ , Nova. The word seemed to mean a lot to you."

"Yes, _words_. What were those _Swedish words_ you called me yes-"

"Quiet, Nova. You're becoming distressed again-"

"Yes, yes. Hush-hush."

"Do you like to be in charge of conversations, Nova?"

"Only if they're _appealing_ conversations."

"Poison Ivy also likes to lead conversations. Is this something you're aware of?"

[ there's a loud, metallic _bang_ that is the result of Nova throwing her fist down on the table in outrage ]

 _"I want a new doctor."_

 **THERAPY**

Patient Therapy: Florence Caldwell - Session Two.

"How are you feeling today, Nova?"

"I said I wanted a _different doctor_."

"Your request is being processed, but until then, these sessions need to continue."

"So you want to talk about... what? My _journey?"_

"You're sounding even better today. This looks like progress."

"Are you doing any actual psychology at all?"

"I'm doing my job, yes."

"Was that a hint of irritation, Doctor?"

"It is my job to do the research into emotions, I believe."

"You're about as good at keeping your temper in check as you are at maintaining a poker face."

"Let's talk about _Poison Ivy_."

"No."

"Yes."

 _"No."_

"We need to talk about her. It's important you come to terms with the ordeals she put you through."

"I can talk about the ordeals, if you'd like, Doctor Brenner. _They happened._ "

"And now your skin is green and you have vines trailing over you. Your internals have been burned to ash and resurrected as toxic replacements, you in _yourself_ blur the line between human and... _more_."

"Oh, looksie, you're _right!"_

"I'm not joking around when it comes to your mental state, Miss Caldwell."

"I _wish_ you _were_. You're slowly _boring_ me into the insanity you're supposed to be dragging me _out_ of."

 **THERAPY**

Patient Therapy: Florence Caldwell - Session Ten.

"Good afternoon, Nova. Hur mår du? Sorry, sorry; I mean, how are you?"

"Afternoon, Eric."

"That would be Doctor Brenner, please, officially."

" _Anything_ for you."

"I... ah, yes- Ah. Of course." [ a distinct sound of Doctor Brenner clearing his throat ] "Thank you."

"What are you going to _ask_ me today, Doctor Brenner? How I'm sleeping? 'Cause I'm _not_."

[ a psychotic little giggle cuts through the white noise in the background of the tape when there's a brief pause between the two, no doubt coming from Nova ]

"No, no, Nova. We can up your dosage of sleeping pills, if that helps, but we need to delve _deeper_ into your issues."

"Oh, the _pink_ little pills, riiiiight? I love those ones. I can pretend they taste like strawberries. I don't even really like-"

" _Nova_ , älskling, please try to focus."

"That word again, dear Doctor? _Remember_ yourself. You're on _tape_!"

"I'm just trying to keep you focused. You always pay more attention when I call you these names, you know?"

"Because it's _dangerous_. As you probably know from my case file, Eric, I love to let the darkness string me along and toss me right over the edge."

[ more psychotic giggling - louder this time ]

"Please call me Doctor Brenner."

"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable? Am I really _breaching protocol?"_

"I'd... prefer it. Please. Let's get back to you, now. What do you remember before the day you got admitted to the asylum?"

 _"Wrongfully."_

"What was that?"

"I was _wrongfully admitted_."

"It's interesting that you seem to recover some semblance of your sanity when aggravated..."

"Pssh."

"Please meet me halfway, No-"

"I remember Jared."

"Jared? Who is this Jared?"

"He was the love of my life, you know? He'd just about be getting ready to leave work, right about now..."

 **THERAPY**

Patient Therapy: Florence Caldwell - Session 38.

 _"Nova!"_

"Aw, Doctor Brenner, are those for _me?"_

"Please call me Eric. Please. And _yes_ , älskling, these are for you."

"You remembered how much I _love_ forget-me-nots?"

"Of course. How are you today, dear Nova?"

"Oh, I'm all _bright and shiny_ today!"

"Are you really? That's... _wonderful_."

[ there's a long silence during which Doctor Brenner can be heard sighing in a dreamy fashion ]

"Tell me something, doc, how many sessions is today?"

"Today is session number 38."

"Mmm, 'kay... they have me hopped up on so many _meds._ I can't... Mmmmm..."

"You look so beautiful today, you know?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you hear me properly? Is the medication affecting your senses at all?"

"Mm. Mhm. Yes. Yep. I think so."

"That is okay. I have something I am needing to tell you, älskling."

"Might wanna be _carefuuuuul_..."

"I find it hard to care. I am in love with you, Nova."

"That's nice."

"... _Nice?"_

"Look at that jellyfish over there by the wall..."

 _"Nice? Nice? **Nice? NICE?**_ _"_

[ at this point the recording hits a spike as Doctor Brenner tosses it from the table in rage ]

End of Final Therapy Session.

Nova sighed wearily, merely blinking at the Doctor who was attacking her. Why was he doing that? Why was he so angry? Was he okay? Mmm... no. He was-

 _Ow._

 _"Ow. OW. OW. **OW!** " _Nova screeched, eyes suddenly flying wide open and bulging almost out of their sockets. He was _strangling_ her, his large, surprisingly _strong_ hands wrapped like an iron-clad _vice_ around her throat. His eyes were so very bloodshot and wide and teary. Why was it always love that drove people to do things like this?

 _LoveLoveLoveLoveLoveLoveLoveLoveLove-_

And she had _felt_ it. Oh, she had. In her past life with Jared, she'd actually known it, and yet she'd still lost it. Perhaps that was just her way. Maybe Florence Caldwell had been doomed from the start to become a psychotic, overpowered but also underpowered _leaf._ So Nova was used to losing and she was used to abuse. She'd lost the only love she'd ever had the moment Poison Ivy had dragged her out of Arkham Asylum against her will. And so Nova found it hard to _care_ what happened to her - because, really, what kind of a life was _this_ _?_

It wasn't a life at all.

It was bloody _torture_.

Nova let herself go limp in the hold of the man who had somehow fallen in love with a drug riddled vegetable, and she let herself _smile_ up at him because, _oh_ , he was giving her everything she wanted! He was giving her an out. An _easy_ way out. She would take it. She would _willingly_ take it. Except-

In rushed the squad of guards who had been neglecting the duties they had in watching over the therapy sessions between herself and Doctor Brenner. In essence, they had allowed and permitted this to happen to her. They'd signed off the papers to say everything was going well and that she was improving and they had ignored her request to get a new Doctor. These men and women, in all their armoured glory, had practically signed her death warrant. Only to rush in when they realised their jobs would be on the line if she died. The _good_ Doctor Brenner was prised away from her, kicking and screaming and calling for her, with shouts of:

"Oh, Nova! You are my love! Mitt hjärta, min skatt, mitt liv, mitt allt! Wait for me! I'm coming back for you! Nova, Nova, Nova! Wait for me!"

 _Nova_ would rather _die_. She almost had, in fact. The beautiful purple bruises all over her neck gave evidence to the fact.

 _Goodbye, Eric._

 **NOVA**

It was all covered up _very_ well. Even for Gotham, this was _shady_. Nova watched it from behind her see through, impenetrable barrier of almost 8 months (maybe?). Her forehead was always pressed against the glass. It was cool and chilled and kept her focused enough to observe and take in and _remember_ the things she was seeing and hearing. For the most part, the Asylum just assumed she was too out of it, of her _mind_ , to be able to comprehend what was going on. Which was good. Which was convenient. Because this meant Nova got to hear and witness a lot more than she would if she were considered a normal, 'sane' person of the everyday _masses_. And it seemed like her luck was going to turn, too, when rumours of Batman coming to pay the asylum a visit started to fly about the place like a bug trapped in a jar. A jar which walls were always closing in and taking away more room to breathe. And yes, _seemed_ was the right word, because as was the trend with the bigger events of Nova's life more recently, things did not, in any way, turn out how she'd expected or _wanted_ them to. In fact, the only way things could have been worse in the way they turned out were if Nova's _benevolent creator_ herself turned up.

She didn't, thank the heavens.

But _someone else_ did. Someone Nova had been _right_ to worry about all those months ago. She was somewhat impressed, though, with his _patience_. All that waiting and plotting and biding of time had obviously, finally paid off for him, because now here Penguin was, strolling down the asylum corridor towards her, twirling his pretentious little cane about beside him.

He even had the audacity to _whistle_.

The Joker liked to whistle. It seemed that all the male villains of Gotham had this in common.

" _Aaaaaah_ , my little lilypad! There she is! All _green_ and tortured lookin'!" Penguin exclaimed with arms spread out either side of his tiny self. _Lilypad?_ Where had she heard that before...?

 _Sparky! Sparky was an insider for Penguin!_

Nova gasped out loud and bashed both her fists and her forehead against the separator glass,

 _"Sparky!"_

"Uh... _yeah_. Okay. Considerably more _nuts_ than reported, it _seems_."

" _She's_ not coming, is she?"

"Who, _Ivy?_ Hah! Nah, lilypad, no worries on _that_. We can't be sharin' the spoils wiv your fellow Queen of the Plants, now, can we?"

Nova let herself droop down like a dehydrated flower and sighed in relief, her shoulders dropping along with all the tension.

"Okay," she breathed, "then I'm all yours."

 _"Excellent,"_ Penguin snarled and Nova visibly _tremored_ with the full body shiver that ran down her spine.

 _... Sometimes I see flames_

 _And sometimes I see people that I love dying_

 _And it's always the same..._

 _Wake up!_

 _And I can't..._

 _I can't ever wake up..._


	5. Chapter 5: The Penguin

_Shall I stay?_

 _Would it be a sin?_

 _If I can't help falling in love with you..._

 **IVY**

The girl had shown such promise. _That_ was what had her all irritated and prickly in the months that followed. There wasn't even a need for her to be searching for an answer or an... _excuse_ for her own internal behaviours, as there was nothing to be upset about. It had always been this way. _Always_. Ivy was alone and then she was betrayed and then she was alone again with nothing but her beloved plants for company - this repeated in a toxic cycle again and again, and Ivy was sure it would for as long as she was doomed to live. With a discontented sigh, yet an elegant one at that, she allowed a hand to drift over to pet at the nearest plant as it keened for her attention. Yes, yes. It was always like this. It had always been like this. There was no need for any of it to _change-_

Ivy screamed and flipped back off of her makeshift plant-seat in a move Harley had taught her, just as a brick came flying through the window with a _horrific_ crashing and clanging that was the sound of glass breaking. It cut right through her tranquility like a _razor_. Ivy gritted her teeth, fists balled up before her. This had better not be that damn _clown-_

It wasn't. A teeny little note was attached to the brick with some sort of gnarly looking rope that Ivy hesitated to touch.

 _'Ives - to put it plain and wivout beatin around the bush ere - we've gotcha little daisy and boy oh boy is she lookin pissed n ready to burn this city to tha ground! It would havta get behind YOU first, tho! Petunia ere hates YOU more than anythin. The point ere is that we've got ya girlfriend and if you wanna get er back you better pay up! $5,000,000 is the minimum."_

Cobblepot didn't even bother to sign it. _He_ knew that _she'd_ know who it was without having to think too hard about it. Who else _wrote_ like that in a disgusting scratchy scrawl? And the _cutesy little plant nicknames?!_ That was _her_ thing. Nobody else could or _should_ pull that off. Especially when it came to things that belonged to _her_. Ivy sighed - it was often the case that whenever she would lose her temper with Joker, he'd make a little niggling comment about the similarities between them. Ivy denied and disregarded them each and every time, of course. The problem was that the jester was alarmingly good at reading faces and even with all her cold hearted mastery of appearing heartless - it was clear that he'd seen it bothered her whenever he said it - and so he mentioned it as regularly as he could. That being the case if he _remembered_ too, though. Everyone knew his mind was a _dark_ , foggy place. Harley had told Ivy once that Joker often described it as a maze - one that he ruled over. It seemed as a good an image as any. Ivy rather enjoyed picturing him dressed up as The Queen of Hearts. Green and red were two colours only The Joker and Ivy herself ever seemed to be able to pull off. It was the one thing she admired about the man.

Anyway...

She supposed she'd better enlist some help in the form of mindless, smitten goons. It was time for Ivy to go get her girl back.

 **NOVA**

Nova's room was... opulent to say the least. It appeared Penguin was doing his best to either impress her or appease her. She'd already agreed to work for him, so what more could he want?

Nova shuddered at the thoughts that came to her without her permission. _Nope. Not going there._

Penguin was a man who loved power and money and valued both more than human life. He ate fish and did odd things like live in abandoned museums, so there was no reason for her to suspect that he could want more from her than just her power. Yes, right. That's right. _So lets just get the room decorated and focus on that, and go to work whenever we're needed._

Shut up.

 _What, you prefer it when I'm sinister?_

Shut. Up.

 _Bite me._

SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP.

With an aggressive shake of her head, Nova wandered over to the nearest wall and pressed her palm against it. Now was the harder part. She was drained. She needed sunlight and sustenance, and she needed more _training_. But that wasn't an option because that meant going back to Ivy - and so Nova would have to teach herself. Slowly, like a reluctant snake, the first vine stretched out across the wall like an extension of her own arm, hugging the plain wallpaper and staying there once she removed herself. Nova did this again and again until she could extend multiple vines at a time - and eventually, the room was covered with plants. Just like... Ivy's house...

Once again the world did that thing were it trembled and then outright shook at the edges, like a stereotypical gaming sequence from the perspective of a crazy person. The spirally little edges were there in her sight, too, but it was likely that that was due to dehydration, or something similar - whatever her equivalent of that was. A flash and everything heightened and spun for her, causing her to be so unsteady on her feet that she almost met the floor with a harsh landing. If it hadn't been for the giant stem of a plant sprouting from the ground to wrap around her and support her where she stood, albeit slumped, she would definitely have fallen.

Even when she found she could stand up and support herself, everything was still spinning and there was nothing to stop the dizziness. Even with all that going on, though, Nova could somehow continue on and function - she could move forward and she could blink and walk in a straight line and she could make sense of what things were. Which was alarming. Which didn't bode well for her mental state. Which-

Penguin walked into the room as she was smacking at her head to try and make it work properly,

"Bloody 'ell, petal - don't damage the _merchandise!"_ Penguin crowed, cackling at his own joke. Nova could manage nothing more than an awkward grimace.

"The months at Arkham are taking their toll."

"They always _do_. Now, now, sweet'eart - we've got some business to attend to, and it's not-"

Penguin was interrupted in a very timely fashion by the loud radio static that came from the walkie-talkie tucked in his blazer pocket - just screaming for his attention. He pushed at the little dial on the walkie with his podgy, greasy finger until he managed to switch it to the mode that allowed transmissions to come through.

 _"Would you like the_ ** _white wine_** _with the fish, sir?"_ Joker yelled through the walkie like he'd been waiting to deliver this particular joke for _months_. It was very likely that he probably _had_ , aswell. While Penguin was far from impressed by this frankly _genius_ slice of wit, Nova mashed her lips together hard enough to prevent the laughter she was all too tempted to let loose. It would not be a good idea to mock her new boss the very first day on the job, now, would it? Not when she was still not at all clued in on how powerful he really was. Oswald Cobblepot was notoriously a very rich man, but he was also a very _sneaky criminal_ \- much like Al Capone. Things were done in his name but that was always as far as it would go - he'd obviously be at the helm of it all but none of it could be traced back to him. Nova trusted the man about as far as she could throw-

Uh, actually... no. That would no longer be accurate. She was freakishly strong now and could probably throw Cobblepot right out of Gotham. In essence, the way her direction of thought was going was that she just didn't trust the sleazy little crime bird-lord, and that was that. Still, she trusted him more than she trusted Ivy - and that was reason enough to stay.

Penguin slid his fat finger over to hold down the button to let him speak and be heard on the other end,

"Whaddya _want_ , clown?"

"I've stopped by to pay a visit to a _dear_ old friend..."

"Listen, mate, you and I aren't-"

"No, no, _no_ , Ozzy! Not _you_. Don't get ahead of yourself. I refer to the quaint little leaf you plucked right off the Arkham tree before anyone else had the chance to snatch her away for themselves." Joker snarled and growled words out in all the right places to make it just the right amount of threatening. The level of which would be enough to get to Penguin. It worked, too. Cobblepot shifted about a little uneasily, playing with the collar of his dress shirt with his free hand - the floorboards creaking where he shifted his weight.

"How do _you_ know-"

"At _this point_ , do you really need to ask?"

"Does _everyone_ work for you, mate?"

"I'd say about 70% of Gotham, give or take some that are more recently deceased..."

"Right, well, I dunno what you want-"

"I already _told_ you, Cobblepot," Joker's tone had dropped a few levels now, and had become quite undeniably dangerous - each syllable taking on a slight growl, "and you know how I don't like to be repeating myself."

"Wo'ever, Jokah. Take your freakish clown act and get off my property!"

Joker said something indistinct about manners (this part didn't come across clearly to Nova but it sounded something like...)

"You know, one time I came over for tea and Ozzypot was sat there devouring an entire fish right in front of me! He didn't even _chew!_ He just swallowed the poor bastards one at a time, bones and all!"

"Don't you come into _my_ home and start with ya... ya throwin' insults around-"

"This whole living in a museum thing is the perfect setup for the most amazing self deprecating joke about your age..." Joker interrupted, completely disregarding the other man's indignance. They'd both gone way off topic, and Joker seemed to realise that because he cut Penguin off for a second time, and made his demand, "Just let us upstairs, would you? I'd hate to have to ask my boys here to break out the laughing gas... murder makes for poor PR, you know?"

"Fine. _Fine_ , Jokah!" Penguin barked, two fingers pinching at the end of his beaky nose. There was a triumphant, quirky roar of a laugh on the other end and then abrupt radio silence.

There wasn't a long wait, either. The sounds of disgruntled goons got closer and closer until it was right outside as Joker (and evidently Harley, too) navigated their way through to where she was. They could be heard asking for directions on the way, and every now and again there would be this telltale _'bok'_ noise that could only be Harley's beloved baseball bat.

During this time, Penguin remembered she was also in the room and held a hand over the walkie like it was a phone - trying to keep them muted from whoever might be on the other end. Boy, did he have it wrong.

"Jokah's stopping by for a _bleedin' playdate_ ," he explained grimly. Nova wondered if he was aware of how literal that statement could end up being. When it came to The Joker; one simply never knew. During her months and months serving her sentence at Arkham Asylum, Nova somehow got to be on pretty good terms with both The King and Queen of Gotham. Every now and again for a few weeks every month or so, Harley and/or The Joker would be admitted to the hellhole, and were always assigned to the cells across from her own - and she didn't mean in a directly opposite sense, either - they were in the ones positioned diagonally across the way. Nova's cell had been a custom, expensive one which catered for whatever it is... she was...

So every time they came to stay, and it was never more than a fortnight each time for either of them, Nova got to know them each a little better. It was much easier to get along with Harley and get on her good side. All Nova really had to commit to was casual talk about materialistic things and (the more common subject of) reassuring her that The Joker _did_ love her and that he _was_ on his way to come and rescue her - which was always made easier by the fact that he came to retrieve his Queen every time, without fail. It helped, she also found, to view Harley as the worryingly intelligent, dangerous and diabolical woman individual that she was - even without The Joker. With Harley being a psychology major, it came across as apparent in the way Nova would speak to her and the questions she would ask her - and Harley didn't desire much more than the recognition she felt she deserved. And so, with repeated occasions of reassurance and idle chatter, twinned with endless hours spent together day and night - it wasn't long before Harley was calling her a _'pal'_ and even a _'bestie'_.

The Joker, however, was a completely different matter. He was absolutely terrifying to be in such close proximity of for 23 hours a day, during which the only breaks would be when he was let out for exercise. Nova wasn't allowed the same right on the basis that they knew if she wanted to escape while out of her cage, she could do so, and with ease, too. The loophole with the whole _human rights thing_ was that her DNA was no longer technically that of a human being's.

 _Flawed, right?_

Joker switched about like a light switch with his moods. To start off with, there was his usual front - jovial and quirky and charming. He'd crack puns and chatter incessantly about meaningless garbage. The key with _that_ side of him was to simply listen and smile and/or laugh at all his jokes. The man loved nothing more than a keen and willing audience, and Nova supplied that to an absolute _tee_. The other moods that took over on occasion were... less manageable. Sometimes she'd wake up and he'd be in a foul mood from the get go - he wouldn't even say hello in the morning (manners meant a lot to him - even in jail) and that would be her first clue in on what the day would hold. From there he'd start with leering at passing staff members, shouting their deepest darkest secrets at them. He did this eight times in total that _she saw_ while they were both there. Five out of eight members were reduced to the point of resolving to hand in their notice of resignation the very next day. None of this ever followed the start off in the same order, but he'd do it all at one point or another. Joker would howl and riot endlessly in his own cell, screaming at the orderlies to let him out and tearing his cell apart to the point where the guards would have to rush in and secure him in a strait jacket. This never helped. It only ever caused him to go from a low simmering, insane fury to a full blown, diabolical _outrage_. Nobody fared well when he reached the point of _full crazy_. It was always hard to sleep or focus on anything else because he would throw night long tantrums, kicking and hollering and cackling in his cell as he rocked back and forth and rocketed off the walls. The eeriest part was that no matter what, Nova would wake up the next day to find him sitting cross legged right up against the transparent barrier to his cell, a charismatic grin on his face and a " _good morning, watermelon!"_ ready to greet her with. He'd use various different fruits, vegetables and plants interchangeably, too. It was real thoughtful. And through all of this madness, Nova could practically feel her own sanity slipping away from her - just from being in his presence. He certainly did her no favours in that respect.

She still didn't know how it happened, exactly, but at some point the clown couple had started to react to the sight of her with excitable cheers of friendship and delight. Nova supposed they were used to people either taking a direct stance against them or going the kiss ass route - they weren't at all used to people treating them as if they were perfectly acceptable and normal. In some ways, it felt the three of them were a part of their own version of society. All villains in Gotham were. The criminals and the murderers and the ill of heart and mind saw things that the masses simply didn't. Gotham was a very dark place - a foundation which was only worsened by the politics that ruled the city and society there. As Joker had once spent three consecutive days preaching to her; society in Gotham and in general was a poorly shepherded scam of a farce. They were just the ones to see it to be so utterly exploitable.

 _They'd get away with it too, if it weren't for that meddling Bat!_

A Scooby Doo one liner? Really? You wanna go that route?

 _Just you watch... it shall be on our grave._

... **My** grave.

 _Your head is a cavernous place, sweetheart. I could bounce around in it for days and never explore all of it. Don't be so selfish with your space. There are more of us to come._

Nova shuddered. The only thing worse than having arrogant voices in your head was to actually take the step towards actively answering and interacting with said voices.

 _You need to get over your denial, already. You're so far gone that your new friend cut the face off of a staff member you were complaining about when he was on his way to freedom, and you were touched by the sentiment!_

Stop it.

 _You don't remember a thing like that? Joker cut the guy's face clean off and pinned it to the notice board in the staff room. He left you a little note, too, remember?_

I don't want to remember. Just stop. I don't want to hear-

 _'What's wrinkly and smelly, detached from it's head and notoriously bad at being kind to plant-people? BARRY'S FACE!'_

Who are you even meant to be? Who do you think you are?

 _I wouldn't embody me, if I were you. It's not going to add to the 'no' section of the 'am I insane?' venn diagram._

Leave me alone.

Luckily, Harley's shrill tone of stubborn petulance cut across and gladly intercepted her inner argument,

"Listen, beakface, we ain't leavin'. We're here to see our _friend_ and we ain't goin' until I've at least given her this cute little t-shirt I found for her from the mall over by-"

"Please tell me it's not orange. Anything but orange." Nova spoke up for the first time since Penguin had walked in on her trying to bash her own head in. Her interruption diffused the growing tension very efficiently, and Harley even danced over to hold the shirt up against her torso to examine.

"Ah, see, it's perfect. I knew that would be the size. I said so, didn't I, puddin'?"

"Willing to testify, dollface," Joker growled out his reply - tone contradicting the crowd pleasing grin on his face.

 **BATMAN**

"They just stormed in and took her, sir."

"There's no need to call me sir."

"Right."

"Why wasn't Arkham equipped to deal with something like this?"

"Well, see, uh... Batman... sir - we were expecting The Joker or Poison Ivy to attempt the break out - not Penguin."

"What does that mean? Why does that mean you weren't capable of taking down Penguin and his goons?"

"The guards were all equipped with the armour that keeps Ivy's nasty toxic gas and Joker's laughing gas out, Batman. We prepared ourselves for Ivy or Joker - so when Penguin came marching up to the gates with his men and attacked with only guns and knives and..." The guard made a gesture to indicate the list went on and on, "anyway, the point is we were too bulked up to be able to fight effectively, and we were soon overwhelmed because of it."

"You're telling me you were _too_ equipped." It wasn't a question. It was a statement, if anything.

The lowly guard nodded vehemently, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. The look on Batman's face was enough to make anyone nervous. Eventually, slowly, Batman looked back to the guard from where he'd been staring fixatedly at the nearest wall. He shook the guard's hand and thanked him for the assistance and then he left.

 **IVY**

Ivy trailed up to the gates of Arkham Asylum, drifting along more than walking. She wasn't here. Ivy _knew_ she wasn't here - but that didn't stop her compulsive need to _check_. It wasn't unheard of for a villain to _lie_ to another, now, was it? But alas, just as Penguin had so coherently written; _'Ives - to put it plain and wivout beatin around the bush ere - we've gotcha little daisy'._

Things didn't often stray from the path she'd intended for them, but whenever they did it was always down to Batman or The Joker. Why was man so determined to be such a plague on Gotham?

She didn't understand how people didn't understand a claim - a possession - an ownership. She'd made it clear as day that Nova was _her_ property and _her_ little sidekick. But of course, everyone else had gotten greedy at the prospect of a second, more obedient Ivy. They'd manipulate and wreck and ruin her little rose. She knew it. She could _see_ it happening, already. With a flourish of exquisite red hair, Ivy turned on her heel and allowed her newly acquired squad of goons to drive her over to Penguin's... museum. Goddess, she hated this place and all it's vile exhibits. Head held high, stride whimsical and determined, Ivy prised the front doors (as well as the men guarding them) apart with huge, vengeful vines that twisted like anacondas and shot forward with an angry purpose.

There was nobody around, it seemed.

Hmm, perhaps she should have knocked.

Ivy's senses, as heightened and unnaturally keen as they were, picked up very easily on the peals of disturbed laughter sounding from somewhere upstairs. She grimaced in a way which somehow still managed to be beautiful. Ivy would know that laughter anywhere. In fact, she could be locked in a room filled to the brim with psychos and she'd _still_ be able to pick his laugh out from the others. That damn _mess_ of a court jester.

Tracking down the location of the meat bags was easy - their warmth was palpable even through the walls. There was a colder being in there with them - something that was barely even human. Ivy grinned, curling her delicate fingers around the handle of the door. She paused, listening.

"... -Barry's face! Did you see it?"

"I got a guard to tell me all about it in _great_ detail."

More delighted clown laughter. Ugh.

Ivy's patience ran out very quickly and so she pushed the door open and strolled into the room, gaze immediately locked very heatedly on Nova - who in turn took a few staggering steps backwards and looked absolutely stricken. Ivy cocked her head curiously. So, the girl _wasn't_ rebellious - she was merely afraid?

... Interesting.

"Thank you all so very much for taking care of my darling progeny."

"I don't remember _you_ being invited to the tea party," Joker spoke with a voice that was a perfect hybrid between gravel and silk.

"I don't remember giving _anyone_ the permission to take _her_."

"You don't own me," a dark voice came from the corner of the room. Nova was shaking with the rage she held inside her, now. She had her jaw set like a boxer's, prepared to either deliver the next blow or receive it.

"It's in your genetics now. There's no escaping it, I'm afraid, dew drop."

"Wither up and _die_."

There was an odd hush about the room. Even Joker and Harley didn't feel they could interrupt it. Ivy's eyes narrowed and she took a few steps towards the lesser version of herself.

"I've been so patient with you. So _very_ patient." Ivy supplied as a warning - implications of what could happen when her patience ran out hung heavy in the air. Imitating Ivy herself, Nova lifted her chin and held her head high - she looked fierce and defiant and... _glorious_. Ivy felt her breath get caught up in her throat,

" _Kill me,_ then. I would rather die a thousand times over than be like you or _with_ you."

Ivy hummed tragically, lips pursed as she trailed towards her fixation. A delicate, green hand danced over to wrap it's fingers around Nova's chin, and she tugged the girl towards her. Nova shook like a leaf as she held her, toxic green eyes that matched her own flitting over her face frantically,

" _Nova_ , oh, Nova... if only you knew what was in store for you. You don't realise it now but you're half in love with me already. Don't try to fight it..." she brought a second hand up to carress at Nova's soft, fern green cheek, "just give in to me as you were always meant to, and maybe your punishment won't even be that severe... it's expected, after all, for younglings to go through a rebellious phase..."

Nova was caught up in it for a bit, eyes dancing and alight with admiration, lips parted in awe - all features softened like that of an adoring lover. At the word _punishment_ , however, things changed. The girl woke from her Ivy filled daze, and her fond eyes became shrewd and furious once more, her soft lips curled downwards in extreme displeasure, and she _frowned_. Ivy sighed melodically and released Nova's chin - sliding her hand down now to grip tightly at the girl's throat,

 _"Insolence."_ She hissed.

But Nova was _not_ as weak as she expected or remembered. Her progeny snarled and slapped her harshly across the face - so hard in fact, that Ivy released her, stumbling backwards - all elegance gone from her posture. There wasn't even time to recover, as Nova sent her flying with an enraged scream and a strong vine. _Two could play at that game_. Ivy's expression was calm and cool and collected - far from that of her inner turmoils - and she retorted with her own attack. Out of the corner of her eye, Ivy could see Penguin, Harley and Joker watching the exchange like an enchanted audience to a particularly violent pantomime. Regardless of anything else, Ivy was impressed with the amount of power her progeny had gathered for herself. It was clear that she'd spent her time apart from her maker training and growing.

A common mistake the occupants of Gotham City made was to underestimate Poison Ivy. Actually, they _always_ thought her to be weaker than she was, because she made sure to never display the extent of her true strength. This was beneficial to her in more ways than one could imagine. It made the aftermath of everything so easy to deal with. Unfortunately, now would have to be an occasion where her flawless composure slipped, as the fury Nova was attacking her with threatened to rival even her stronger rebuttals. With a final, sweeping gesture, Ivy brought a plant up from the ground to swallow Nova, keeping her trapped inside it until Ivy was ready to release her.

Ivy swiveled to address their little audience,

"The girl is mine, understand? Any more leeching of my property will unleash the consequences."

And with that, Ivy sent Nova off in her flower prison ahead of her to the home she'd intended for them both from the start. Joker watched them go with a nasty, side splitting grin.

If Ivy had paid attention to it, she would have known to be cautious.

 **Author's Note: I know it's been a while since the last update, but honestly I've had the absolute WORST luck with my writing as of late. I've had multiple chapters to write up for multiple fanfictions and (this has happened at least three times for both fanfictions) I've been in the process of typing up the chapters, and I'll get into it and forget to copy and paste everything, and suddenly, for no apparent reason, and with no warning, my laptop will decide to shut down! Again and again I've lost everything I've written and now, FINALLY, I've managed to type it up successfully. So I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm sorry that it's been a long time coming. OH, and this won't be the last we see of Penguin. To any who thought his lack of reaction to Ivy coming in to steal back Nova was odd - it will be explained in the next chapter, so don't worry. Thank you all for the kind reviews and everything. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Gives my self esteem that little, much needed boost, you know?**

 _Like a river flows,_

 _Surely to the sea,_

 _Darling so it goes,_

 _Some things were meant to be..._

 _Take my hand,_

 _Take my whole life too,_

 _'Cause I can't help falling in love with you..._


	6. Chapter 6: Envy Is A Green Eyed Monster

_I feel it every day,_

 _It's all the same,_

 _It brings me down,_

 _And I'm the one to blame..._

 **NOVA**

Within the confines of her flower prison, there was nothing to indicate anything of the passing of time. It was dark and about as insulated as one expected a closed flower to be, and it was surely killing off every remnant of Nova's sanity with each passing second. For the first of what she assumed were hours (she counted at first but quickly lost her way and momentum), Nova clawed at the petal walls, assuming it would be easy to tear through and break free. It really wasn't. Even if her weak nails had been capable of ripping the petals that confined her, she really didn't have the heart to damage a plant like that. It was pathetic. It would be like raising a hand to a child. She couldn't do it. The only thing that even remotely kept her anchored to her sanity were the ongoing sounds from the outside world that echoed about from _wherever she was._ She had to assume the greenhouse, or the house itself... that was unless she wasn't even _at_ Ivy's base. Nova had no way of knowing and it was driving her ever further down the deep end. At least it was clear it was Ivy's voice she was hearing, along with all it's seductive glory. Even all muffled and passed through the thickest layer of the flower's shell, the way Ivy would say certain things, or the way her tone would change and shift and drop would send a shiver down Nova's spine.

"Nova, dear, I hope you're keeping that plant well nourished," Ivy's pretentious, drawling tone cut through her reverie, drawing her back into the stifling darkness she was smothered with. Nova rolled her eyes in irritation, giving no response beyond a rebellious scoff. Of course she was. It was all she _could_ do to keep herself alive. If she fed the plant it would feed it's strength back into her and the exchange would keep the both of them nourished. Ivy wasn't finished with her lecturing, "Now, you see, petal, I'm heading out to do some research as it occurred to me in the early hours this morning that I actually know nothing about you." There was a pause, where Nova could hear the sound of somebody brushing their hair, and it was obnoxiously loud, "Tell you what, my captive chrysanthemum, if you tell me of your name; I will let you out a little earlier than I was intending."

Nova considered this, frowning, playing with her lower lip. It was certainly very tempting, but one bargain always led to another and the stakes would always be upped until the circumstances became inescapable and there was nothing left to live for. As long as she kept as much of herself as secret as she could, then she would always have the upper hand. It would drive Ivy even nuttier than she already was. The blighted Green Goddess was evidently irritated by the ineffective silence,

"Bad move, _kitten."_

She spat the word out, gritting her teeth around it, mocking her with it.

The sharp pang through her heart was _everything_ to do with the fact that this had been Jared's favourite pet name for her.

"If you let me out..." Nova's voice wavered over the word 'out' - the reality of how trapped she was hitting her, "... I'll tell you _anything-"_

"Stop talking like that."

"What?"

"As if you're saner than the rest of us. Like you have it better. You don't, dahlia. You're just as _doomed_ as the rest of this corrupt city."

Nova swallowed rather audibly, wetting her lips. It terrified her that Ivy could seemingly read her mind even when she was imprisoned in her floral cage. Her heart throbbed oddly, screaming her to admit that Ivy was right - even internally would be enough. Another, not so poignant part of herself argued that the moment she started to believe the things Ivy told her about herself, would be the moment all was lost. Through the means of a fleeting breath - a bristling of leaves in a spring breeze - she accepted the confrontation. It was true. Nothing was the same.

"The walls are pulsating," she whispered, knowing that Ivy's superior senses could pick it up.

"Anything else?"

"Colours are... different... I've also forgotten what the sky looks like."

"Poor, delicate rose. If you behave yourself and _accept_ what you are now, and your obligation by my side; I'll set you free and show you the sun rise _and_ set... daily." Her tone was oddly intimate, touching on that of a lover's - a paramour. It set fire to Nova's nerves and she found herself developing that unexpected soft feeling that buzzed at her spine and the back of her head. Nova felt deceptively safe. Treasured, in some way. This was _no good._

"Do you really have to talk to me like that?"

"Would you prefer a _scornful_ mistress?"

"I would _prefer_ my freedom."

"You speak more like I do every passing day, do you realise, lavender?"

"No I do _not_."

There was no response to this - only a classy peal of laughter. Nova licked her lips again and placed a hand on the soft petal to her side, it felt as though it were carressing her back.

"I return later, lilypad. I'd offer you the specifics, but..." her sentence wavered as she giggled, "I'm sure time is one of many concepts to have fallen from your grasp." Her laughter was cruel now.

"Time, time, time, time, time, _time..._ " Nova muttered uncertainly to herself.

"This is the purest proof that time spent around those _savages_ does nout but dessicate the brain."

"Savagery... animals. Hunger. Pain. _Strife_."

It was a summary - a linking of words - which was all her mind could muster these days. Ivy had left at that point, Nova was sure, as there was no response.

 **IVY**

There was something beautiful about the earliest breaks of dawn. Not even just that but the things it brought with it - little things. Dew drops on the leaves, breaks in the sky... reflections. It was the little things, the _natural_ things that gave Ivy the love for the world that she needed. _Passion_ was more accurate. It couldn't be said that there was anything that Ivy actually _loved_ beyond plants. Ivy was _fond_ of things. Ivy was fond of Nova. A girl who was so filled with _passion_ \- the very reason Ivy had picked this girl was because of that very passion. Brought to Arkham Asylum for headbutting a pig-cop during a protest in favour of _plants_. It all linked so beautifully. When she'd _seen_ the blossom attack the meatbag for the second time... that was when she'd known. This girl was woven from the same thread as she. A kindred spirit in a doomed life like this could surely be a thing to seek out and eventually possess.

 _Possess._

That was the key word.

That was how The Joker phrased his thing with Harley from time to time - their dysfunctional onslaught of a romance was so topsy turvy, and yet, somehow, the two of them ended up as equals. Sure, Joker was the boss as a front - on the front _cover_ \- but Harley was just as instrumental as he. She was integral to his daily operations, the way their system worked. Harley would play the dumb, pretty blonde act and it would be assumed she was harmless, and so she _heard_ things. None knew she was the psychology major, the very psychiatrist who had made the most process with The Joker _ever._ Harley heard things, she deciphered things and saw through things and later The Joker would hear about it - and even later, the right people would die or be rewarded. Even Ivy had to admit it was a good system.

As far as she could tell, the clowns were _partners_ in crime. The one thing that wasn't clear was whether either of them knew whether it was true love or obsession.

Enough about them. Today was a day of discovery of a different kind.

Ivy trailed her fingers along the nearest branch, the familiarity of the texture was a necessity. The property across the way was the one she was in search of - it had a lot of answers to the questions she had - the ones Nova would continue to refuse to give her. _Florence Caldwell_. A pretty name, that. Not as fitting as the title Ivy had given her upon their meeting. Florence suggested that she were delicate, that she was a daisy, when she was actually a snapdragon or a venus _flytrap_. Nova communicated that - the name fit her progeny like a glove. It irked at Ivy that she'd been forced to seek it out, though, to seduce someone and make them give her the name. She'd had to go to _Town Hall_ and look through files and pictures. It had been a grimy experience. Nova would pay for it later.

There was a movement passing by one of the windows.

... A man? There was a man inside Florence Caldwell's registered address. With a snarl, Ivy hastened to glide down to the property, a vine snaking through to obliterate the lock and let her in. She was upon the stranger in an instant, glorious eyes blazing and teeth clenched so tightly that they were like fangs,

"It's not considered polite to enter another's home with _invitation_."

Even with a hand around his throat and a vine wrapped tight around his waist, the man managed to be witty, "Maybe you should practice what you preach."

Ivy cocked an eyebrow, "How do you know I don't have an invitation?"

"How do you know _I_ don't? And besides, you had to ruin the lock to get in."

"A fair observation." Ivy let the man down, eyes narrowed as she scrutinised him. The vine remained secured around his waist.

"See, _I_ have a _key_. This is the home I share with-" he cleared his throat and shook his head, it was clear he found it difficult to breach the subject matter, " _shared_ with my girlfriend, before she left."

 _Oh? How interesting. The man was deluded._

"She _left_? Where did she go?"

"I have no idea. I don't know, alright? You need to go. _That's what I know_."

He moved to shepherd her towards the door but Ivy raised a finger, wagging it at him as her plant yanked him back rather harshly.

"Ah, ah, _ah_. Answer my questions and you might just live. What is... _was_ your lover's name?"

"Florence."

Ivy inhaled rather sharply. The betrayal stung her like weed killer. Nova had kept this from her, had made her think-

Ivy never saw _red_ when she got mad - she simply saw a dark, more violent shade of green. The hand once again wrapped itself around the man's throat, the indignation was back.

 _"And what is your name?"_

"J-Jared," he choked out, struggling now that the grip was tighter - all pretences of wit and confidence had long since slipped away and now he was just a man who had no idea how much trouble he'd gotten himself in simply because he'd said the one name that would have ensured his doom.

 _"Jared_ ," Ivy breathed, eyes lighting up with the information. _Jared._ She could use this, she knew. Manipulation was a strong suit.

"Why do you want to know all this?" He appeared to have been conserving his breath, as this answer came out fairly coherently.

"Because _your_ girlfriend is _my_ girlfriend now," Ivy sneered. It wasn't true, but it would do the trick. Just as Ivy expected, Jared took the bait, his face contorting into one of barely restrained anger,

"Excuse me?"

"Except, of course, she's not going by _Florence_ anymore..."

"What are you _talking_ about?" He was visibly very riled up by now. 'Twas the result of asking question after question and having none of them answered. It would drive anybody right down the road to fury.

"Here's it is, Jared; the deal. Nova is with _me_ , now, and you shall be the... best behaved bit of blackmail in the god awful history of this world. Do you understand that?"

Jared fidgeted about uncomfortably within her grasp, "You're not going to get far with that. She doesn't care about me. She left."

Ivy simply laughed and shoved him headfirst into the nearest wall to knock him out.

 **NOVA**

Nova tried not to pay attention to how much time was passing. Not only did she have no idea, but she was having trouble actually counting - she would get as far as 13 and then everything would go blank and the next few in the sequence would dissipate from her mind, along with the rest - her reasoning for this came to 13 being an unlucky number. It was all she could come up with. It was as far as her unreasonable mind would take her when it came to rationalisation. Instead, to pass the time, she murmured things to her plant captor, having a conversation that, from an outsider's perspective (or someone who wasn't Ivy), would appear to be one sided. She twinned this with gentle caresses to the petals around her. It was an odd feeling to be soothing her captor like this, but this plant was no ordinary captor - it possessed no malicious intent - plants were obedient creatures by nature, and Ivy had taken advantage of that to bend them to her will, and so Nova _could not_ blame her captor.

Nova had just been contemplating the chain of command in the current setting, when she heard the front door being kicked in. Someone was doing a hell of a job trying to struggle their way away from who Nova immediately assumed to be Ivy. Her sympathetic head shaking was cut short, however, when the back and forth began:

"What the hell is _that_?"

" _That_ , dear Jared, is your beloved, run-away girlfriend."

"You turned her into a _plant_?!"

"In some ways."

Nova couldn't breathe. She couldn't even speak to call out to him. He was here. _Here_. How was that possible? How could she save him? He couldn't _be_ here. Ivy would kill him without a doubt.

"I'd really prefer you just killed me, to be honest, if you're planning on answering _every_ question like that."

Nova sniffled rather loudly and smacked a hand to her mouth in shock, trying to cover the effects of her sorrow. There was a heavy silence in the room, and when Jared next spoke, all traces of wit or joviality had dropped from his tone,

"That was _her_ , wasn't it?"

"It could have been any of my _many_ experiments," Ivy's answer was just littered with lies and smugness. Nova wanted to punch her more than usual. In fact, if she got out, she'd go straight to throttling her. She licked at her incredibly dry lips and finally managed to speak up,

"Jared..."

"Okay, _that_ was her." Ivy's comedic timing was spot on, but nobody laughed. Nova could hear footsteps nearing her flower prison with every step - they were heavy, like that of a zombie - it had to have been Jared. Ivy was graceful no matter the circumstance or situation,

"Florence? Are you _the flower_ or are you _in_ the flower?"

"I'm not sure anymore."

"Uh, okay. Let me just-"

Ivy intercepted then, "Lay a grubby hand on the plant again and I'll execute you where you stand, meat-bag."

"Yeesh."

"Stand back. Blackmail is most effective when twinned with visuals."

A blinding light of some kind began to peek through into her enclosed cage as the petals peeled back at Ivy's command. The process was slow and teasing, but eventually the job was done and Nova was left curled up in the centre, hiding her eyes; rocking back and forth. She tried harsh blinking, thinking it could speed up the process of the recovery of her eyesight. She so desperately needed to see Jared, and then to _feel_ him-

That was her incentive, and though she tried her hardest to get her eyesight back on her own, it was useless and Ivy strode forward, yanked her head back by her hair, and dropped a foreign, strong smelling liquid into each of her eyes. With a light smack to Nova's cheek, she was left to adjust to the rest on her own. Initially, she couldn't see further than the moisture - her eyes swam and her head ached - bright white turned into foggy grey, a gradient of the previous into sepia, and eventually... colour. Blessed, vibrant colour. A sigh of relief passed her chapped lips, and she squinted at the shapes before her that hadn't quite formed yet. Nova whiped the remaining foreign liquid from her eyes and then she could _see_. But, _oh_ , how she wished she couldn't. Jared was kneeling a short distance away from her, a pair of scissors discarded on the floor by him. Ivy was stood behind him, a vine wrapped tight and restricting around his throat - a knife held in Ivy's own perfect hand to Jared's temple. Nova clenched her jaw and began to crawl slowly forwards, but stopped short when she saw the way Jared was staring at her.

Horror and pity, pure and unadulterated, coloured his features.

"Don't _look at me like that_!" She cried out, curling herself back up into a little ball to shield herself from his judgemental eyes.

"What _happened_ to you?" Jared gasped out in what _Nova_ heard to be disgust.

"She became _just like me_ , little man... isn't she _monstrous_?" Ivy was mocking, chiding, her grin was broad on her red lips. She curved a hand round and down his jaw, pushing her hand to rest on the cheek furthest away from her.

"Change her back. Now. Do it now. Do it. Change her ba-" Jared started to babble the way he always did when he panicked, cut off by the vine around his throat clenching his throat tighter.

 _"Oh, that's rich!"_ Nova snarled, trembling with the fury she'd held inside her now for God knows how long. The majority of it was directed at Ivy and always would be, but it had twisted, become corrupted, spiralling into this new horror. Jared was right there, now, held in place and _hating_ her. It felt that way. Nova could feel it pricking at her like thousands of little needles. She was far too deluded to realise she was projecting her insecurities onto him - taking it as fact and actuality. Nova uncurled herself and got to her feet, legs shaking like a newborn fawn, "You were the one talking about _marriage!_ Marriage, Jared! That's when you _vow_ to love and cherish someone no matter what, regardless of their appearance, their flaws-"

 _"Flaws?! You're fucking green! You're shacked up with Poison Ivy in the middle of nowhere, living inside plants! You've got vines **embedded in your skin**! I doubt you can even be classified as human anymore!" _ Jared roared with a fury that Nova couldn't grasp the root of. Ivy had loosened the vine around his throat enough that he was capable of not only speaking but _shouting_ his frustrations - his turmoil unwinding itself inside him. She'd done this on purpose, Nova knew - this was what Ivy _wanted_ \- but it didn't stop her from screaming at her beloved.

 _"I went missing, Jared, and you never came to **look for me**_ _."_ This had an effect on both. A heavy silence fell, Jared licked at his lower lip and dropped his head as far as he could manage with Ivy holding his head back the way she was. Nova panted, exhausted already after so much exertion and emotion. Still, she wasn't done, "I was locked up in Arkham Asylum," she informed him in a quiet, solemn tone, "I was put in there against my will and nobody ever realised I wasn't supposed to be there - until Ivy and Harley and Joker. They got me out of there, and then there was..."

Nova struggled to speak about the horrors Ivy put her through, but this wasn't what had caught Jared's attention,

"You're on a first name basis with these freaks?"

"Careful, honey. I'm one of them now."

"Yeah... you sure are." He was hostile now, reserved and judgemental. The glint in his eye spoke all layers of cruel and condescending, his lips curved downwards in an unpleasant twist. He was rejecting her.

"You don't _get_ to judge me for who I am now. You left me to _burn_. I went missing and you allowed it to just happen and not once did you go out in your crappy car to find me, did you? _You. Left. Me. To. Burn._ "

There was another suffocating silence, during which Jared closed his eyes and did his best to turn his head away. Ivy slapped him so hard he was forced to turn it back to face Nova - a nasty red mark burning bright on his cheek. Even with all the hatred she had for him now, Nova flinched when it happened.

"Do you see now, Nova? Do you understand, little bud?" Ivy spoke up for the first time in what felt like forever, addressing Nova directly. It curled around her and smothered her in something she couldn't quite describe. Something flared within her and something _else_ came alive inside her mind. It was the truth, she realised. Ivy had been telling the truth all along. All mankind was good for was betrayal and devastation. Jared was close to ruining her the same way Ivy had been _ruined_ again and again and again. So she nodded and drifted closer to the pair on the other side of the room. She could see a path before her, two forks in the road - but only one was even remotely tempting to her anymore. She was _raw_ and hollow and barren.

"I loved you more than I loved myself," Nova whispered to him, tracing her fingertips down across his cheekbones like lithe little figure skaters, "I loved you more than I could ever put into words or scripture or thought. It consumed me and blinded me and made me a pathetic little doormat for all your whims and wants..." Nova's gaze hardened, vibrant green eyes bleeding somewhat into a darker shade, "I'm done with it now - done with you. I'm sure that given another hour or the right phrasing of words I could change my mind and try to escape with you, but I have perspective right now... I have insight. I see you for who you truly are, Jared, and it's _ugly_."

Ivy offered her the knife she'd been holding to Jared's temple, and she took it.

It wasn't enough, though, the weight of it wasn't satisfying. It wouldn't do the job the way she wanted. It was fortunate that Jared had left the scissors just discarded on the floor like that. Nova retrieved them and balanced the two weapons in each palm. This was better. _Oh, it's finally happening_.

Shut up.

 _No, don't listen to me. Focus on the task at hand. **Kill him**._

Nova shuddered lightly, disturbed by her own mental processes. Every inch and fibre of her was _living_ for this moment, she was _alive_.

"Goodbye, Jared," she uttered to him. He did nothing but glare up at her with blazing, unfiltered hate - his eyes streaming the tears she knew he'd rather die than admit he was shedding - and he would, too.

Nova positioned the scissors on the left side of his temple, the blade on the right, and secured her grip on both. Oddly enough, she was at her calmest in this very moment. This was her nirvana, her sanctuary. Everything was silent, for once, inside her own mind - no unwanted voices or laughter. No pulsating walls or overly vibrant, skittering and scattering colours or letters. _Serenity. Yes._

A readying breath pushed itself out from her lips and with one, violent, horrifying _push_ \- Nova had plunged both the knife and the scissors into either side of her boyfriend's head. Moments after the fact, she let her arms drop to her sides, and then she was falling, falling back to the ground she should have stayed huddled up on. Ivy wouldn't allow her to hit it, though, and sent a plant to catch her. Nova wasn't even allowed the time to recover or come to terms with what she'd just done, as suddenly Ivy's lips were on her own, and she was _kissing_ her. Nova was too wrapped up in her shock based paralysis to do anything about it, and soon found that she didn't even _want_ to.

What a blissful tragedy this love was doomed to be.

A few delicate, red fingernails trailed intimately over her cheek,

"You're _mine_ , now."

* * *

 _Over and over,_

 _Over and over,_

 _I fall for you,_

 _Over and over,_

 _Over and over,_

 _I try not to,_

 _Over and over,_

 _Over and over,_

 _You don't even try..._


	7. Chapter 7: The Pit of Depravity

_I feel the cold loneliness unfold_

 _Like from another world_

 _Come what may_

 _I won't fade away_

 _But I know I might change_

* * *

For a moment, for a single, tantalising minute, Nova was okay with what she had done. In fact, she was happy. Jared had hated for her for what she had become, Jared had outed himself as just another hateful specimen of human scum, and now he was dead. Her mind connected the dots and her logic centre tied it all together nicely. Jared was dead. Jared…. was dead. And that was the end of it.

But a minute is only sixty seconds, and when that minute had passed, and the insanity and the blind rage had subsided. All that was left was an ever-growFor a moment, for a single, tantalising minute, Nova was okay with what she had done. In fact, she was happy. Jared had hated for her for what she had become, Jared had outed himself as just another hateful specimen of human scum, and now he was dead. Her mind connected the dots and her logic centre tied it all together nicely. Jared was dead. Jared…. was dead. And that was the end of it.

But a minute is only sixty seconds, and when that minute had passed, and the insanity and the blind rage had subsided. All that was left was an ever-growing pool of blood, the corpse of Nova's boyfriend, and the bloody knife and scissors she still held in her hands. With a scream, she dropped them, almost _throwing_ them towards the floor in her haste to get rid of them.

 _You've really gone and done it now, haven't you? Can't even blame me._

Even her conscious mind was too horrified to do anything. For once, she didn't reply to the voice, and remained fixated on the terror before her.

"It's always so _tedious_ when people go through the god awful moral questioning. You already _did_ the deed, sweet pea, now get on with it. We still have to feed him to the children."

Ivy was speaking, and she was gesturing, and she was rolling her eyes and wandering around the room to inspect the state of the plants she'd homed there, and Nova wasn't paying attention to any of it. A tear landed on Jared's face. It must have been hers.

"Y-you…." She began, trembling so hard it was a wonder her legs hadn't buckled and folded beneath her. She raised a shaking arm, trying to point at Ivy accusingly. The woman, in turn, placed a perfectly manicured hand to her chest, where her heart was nothing more than a vegetable, and mocked offense, eyebrows raised.

 _"M-me?"_ She echoed, every word enunciated with smug victory and barely contained excitement in what she was about to say, "Oh, _no,_ petal… you. This was _all_ you."

Nova finally _did_ fall to her knees, her legs giving way, and her chest erupting with panicked sobs when the shock paralysis finally wore off. Ivy reacted no further than letting out a short peal of laughter, sounding like bells made of glass, and sauntered over to meet her kneeling progeny. Two fingers found their way beneath Nova's chin, and her face was tilted upwards, unceremoniously, the tears spilling down her cheeks slower with the new angle.

"Nova, tulip, you did the right thing. A man like that would have left with his life, ungrateful and angry, only to return with a flamethrower. He would have torched not only us but all of our children. Our innocent, docile children. You've done your _job,_ sugar. You protected us! You protected the _flowers._ "

There was something exuding from Poison Ivy as she spoke, subtle and hard to see, but much easier to spot if you were a plant/human hybrid, and potent enough to hold even Batman under it's spell. And, yet… Nova chose to ignore it.

"You're right," she breathed, completely enthralled. From an outsider's perspective, walking into a scene such as this would imply, immediately, a goddess and her most devoted follower. A deity and her awestruck disciple. At the very least, the scene provoked the concept of two lovers dealing with grief. Whatever it was… it was far from hate.

Ivy's perfect green eyes narrowed, flitting between each of Nova's, searching for something. Perhaps the signs of her airborne toxin having worked, the devotion she'd hoped to inspire planted and taking root within the recess of Nova's mind. Regardless of whatever it was she _was_ looking for, she seemed to find it, as she straightened and threw her head back with a satisfied laugh.

"Oh, that's so _sad!_ You didn't even fight it this time, my dear. How at the end of your proverbial tether you must be, you poor thing."

"I didn't-" Her protest was not only half-hearted but short lived.

"There's no way for you not to have seen the toxin, petal. I would have thought you to be well aware by now of the consequences of lying to me. Would there happen to be anything you'd like to _say?"_

"I'm… sorry." It was still hard to say it, even under her spell. Nova sighed, ducking her head towards the ground. She closed her eyes, tight, wishing it all away. The point of giving in and subjecting herself to Ivy's will had been to make everything easier. She was so _tired,_ and run down and, as Ivy had pronounced, _truly_ at the end of her tether. Under Ivy's control, at least, all decisions and thoughts and instructions were made _for_ her. An escape from her own head was all she wanted. There was no point continuing the fight. There was no Wizard at the end of the yellow brick road anymore, because she'd murdered him. There was nobody for her to go home to when she escaped. There was nothing there for her anymore. She was well and truly alone, apart from the one person she would pay any amount of money to be away from.

"There's a good girl, Nova. We'll have you tamed yet. As for now… _I've heard_ that a certain two faced individual has recently come across some things that don't _belong to him,_ and among all that he has amassed, are some rare and powerful poisons. If we can get our hands on those, we'd only need to learn the basic components, and we'd be set, perhaps, forever."

"You want me to…?"

"You recall the costumed _brute_ we were accosted by right outside our own home, flower? I'm not so sure if you're aware… but he has a sidekick. A measly young thing who goes by the pseudonym of Robin. Pointless addition, really, but the boy does enough damage to make an impact. _You,_ my pretty young thing, shall be my Robin."

"I'm not wearing a costume."

"Don't be ridiculous. Our beautiful green skin? That _is_ our costume."

* * *

That was how it came to be that at barely a stroke before midnight, they were stood among the shadows together on a rooftop, watching Two Face and his gang below, through the means of a well-positioned skylight. Ivy's vines had been slowly extending and wrapping themselves around the base of the skylight itself, ready to crush it and smash the glass or lift the entire thing up, wrenching it away from where it was fixed to the building. As it was, though, Ivy was yet to give any orders, and so the vines merely collected around it.

"Do you have a plan?" Nova asked, looking out over the city around them, and wondering how it was that she'd never thought to see the city from up high. Ivy sighed, and Nova knew she was rolling her eyes, without even needing to look. The Goddess turned, one hand on her hip, chin tucking almost neatly over her shoulder, and pursed her lips. She gave a very light whistle and suddenly the vines that were crowding the skylight wrapped themselves around Nova, and forced her head away from the skyline, and back towards her mistress.

"I'll admit I don't know how to deal with insubordination as of yet, but I am nothing if not a creative visionary, and shall take pleasure in thinking up varied punishments, do you understand?"

Nova gave a nod, as effectively as she could, considering the vines that held her in place. She noticed however, they'd softened their grip around her, by no permission of Ivy's, and were simply caressing her fondly. She allowed a slight upward curve to fall to her lips, eyes sparkling in the darkness. Ivy's lips parted, suspicious.

"I understand."

"Hmm. Fine. I _do_ have a plan, as it happens. It's not very intricate, though. I'm afraid you may be left disappointed, dandelion."

"Is your plan to drop down from the skylight and confront them?"

Ivy reached out to cup Nova's cheek, a thumb drawing slowly over her cheekbone. The vines had withdrawn.

"I do hope the case it that we are very in tune with each other and not that the plan is too simple."

"You're a Goddess, but your plan is extremely simple."

"I suppose that's alright," Ivy responded airily, preening visibly after receiving such an unexpected compliment. "As long as it's not a clown's brash, theatrical, moronic sort of a plan, I can permit it being simple." She leaned in a little, eyes alternating down towards Nova's lips, and breathed: "I think that could be acceptable, don't you?"

The image of Jared's mutilated, dead body flashed before her eyes, and she stepped back, shaking off Ivy's grasp, and hardening herself against her advances. Ivy, for one, looked extremely irritated, her eyes narrowed almost to slits, and her brow furrowed so deeply that it looked almost as if she were imitating a gargoyle. Slowly, it smoothed out, worryingly so, and became almost calm, complacent.

"You might want to hit me with your toxin thing again, before I throw myself off of this roof to get away from you." Nova seethed.

"And if you were _truly_ considering that course of action, why would you inform me of your plan?"

"Because I don't want to die, and while I'm living, it's so much easier to be brainwashed and have you dictate my every move. I don't want to have to think, I don't want to have to do things for myself. So you get to control me just like you've always wanted to, and I'll blindly do your bidding and not think about anything I've done."

Ivy tapped her chin, red fingernails apparent even in the dim lighting. The only thing to illuminate them up on the roof were the lights coming from nearby buildings, billboards, signs, and the light emanating from the building they were stood on itself, delivered to them from the skylight.

"Such a shame…" Ivy mused, progressing towards Nova once more. "You're still a stubborn, dim-witted queen of morality, aren't you? I've never wanted to _control_ you, you beautiful little _idiot_. I want your loyalty, I want your devotion, I want your _dedication_. I want to _own_ you." Once more, Ivy's hand came down to rest on Nova's cheek, only this time, Ivy snaked a hand round to cup the back of Nova's head, just above her neck, and gently persuaded her to drift close enough. Before the threat of it registered in Nova's tired mind, Ivy's lips pressed against her own, and just as she was about to react, she felt the familiar giddiness fall over her – the genuine _awe_ of Ivy's being. The toxin. Ivy had hit her with the toxin again. Nova sighed, tumbling into unparalleled bliss now, because now not only was she receptive to the kiss, she was _enjoying it_ , and she was curling her arms around Ivy in return, desperate to get as much as she could before Ivy inevitably tired and pulled away. She didn't, though, not for a while, anyway. The fervour at which the kiss transpired doubled, sweet little breaths the only thing to permeate their own personal silence.

 _Bang_.

Something was happening below, within the building.

In tandem, Ivy lost interest in the kiss, and hastened over to the skylight once more, the vines already lifting the frame along with the glass away from the building, and setting it aside. Dutifully, Nova followed, watching Ivy sit down and pull her legs down with her to hang from the structure. Nova joined her, craning her neck to look down on the gang. Beneath them, they looked like nothing more than ants, inconsequential _human_ ants that surrounded themselves with weapons and explosives and _fire_ and concerned themselves not with the wellbeing of the natural world, but with wealth and material gain. Nova's jaw set, a steely anger settling within her chest. She'd never met a single one of them, but she _hated_ all of them. She really did.

Ivy was looking over at her, a much larger flower growing behind her. There was no soil on the roof, there was nothing for them to grow from, but that was the miracle of the power Nova and Ivy had in common – it didn't _need_ soil or sunlight or water in order to create. The things they wished to create simply came to be, and all restrictions and inhibitions came later. Sustained creations were far removed from the immediate thing, and _that_ … was an extremely powerful gift.

Once again, Nova copied her creator's example, and with the passion that was burning inside of her now that she had riled herself up and found her hatred for those who acted as obstacles to their goal, her flower grew much faster than she was expecting. Ivy applauded, a seemingly genuine look of pride on her face. Their respective vines wrapped around their individual waists, and they were lowered swiftly into the pit of depravity below.

* * *

 **AN: I'm back! Please don't throw anything. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I lost all inspiration for this story and all motivation to write along with it, and I've honestly only just gotten back into writing again. So, you can expect more chapters for me, and sometimes they may be regular updates, and other times I'm afraid you may have to wait a while. I'm sorry for this. I have a lot going on, but that's the standard excuse for writers, isn't it? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and I'd like to thank everyone who commented and favourited and followed and everything else. I really appreciate the support and the dedication and I'd like you all to know I'm writing this for you. Ta-ta for now.**

 _Nothing comes easily_

 _Fill this empty space_

 _Nothing is like it seems_

 _Turn my grief to grace_

 _Nothing comes easily_

 _Where do I begin?_

 _Nothing can bring me peace_

 _I've lost everything_


	8. Chapter 8: The Line

_I can't come alive_

 _I want the room to take me under_

 _Cause I can't help but wonder_

 _What if I had one more night for goodbye?_

* * *

It reeked of corruption. Not the usual sort. Not like encountering a dirty cop or watching Mayor Hill give a speech on TV. This specific kind of corruption... it was the sort that had all signs of plant life cringing, withering away and dying. It scrambled along the walls, retreating back towards the edge of the room, desperate to get outside - to get some air.

Nova could see why.

The room was toxic, the fumes of their idiotic attempt at chemistry creating an ominous fog that very clearly could have presented a danger to the likes of herself and Ivy; had they not been the monsters that they were. She didn't know why she hadn't seen it before, looking down on them from above, but now that she was level with them... they were wearing _gas masks_. The morons hadn't even let open any windows or doors. But then again... maybe they had the limited enough wit to know that if the fog got out - if _Batman_ , for example were to pass by their building and see or _smell_ them...

Hm. There was method to this madness.

" _Imbeciles._ " Ivy seethed, moving around the room in a slow semi circle, backing them up against the door. "Do you have _any competence_ in you? Any... _degree_ of mercy? Do you not _know_ what devastation you wreak on the nature around you?" There was nothing quite so terrifying as the sight of Poison Ivy in the height of her fury. Nothing would compare to the wrath she would unleash here. "No..." she snarled, vines that had been creeping along the floor either side of her now rising up to form an arch around and above her. "Mankind never _knows_. Mankind has never known mercy or compassion or the insight to consider anything of the _bigger picture._ " The vines were idle no longer, spearing forwards through the room so violently that they impacted through the heads of three of the men and straight through to the other side, the impact so fierce and the flight so fast that no blood was spilt.

 _Nova_ , a new voice in her mind spoke, and without even a second to think about it, she knew who it was, and what they wanted. It was all the signal she needed, and with that, Nova's own vines swept forth to wreak havoc and justice and claim the lives of her enemies. The floor was bubbling, now. Oozing. There was a thick sludge coating the cement, horrid and wonderful all at once. She felt it dripping from her fingertips, too, like a more aqueous version of the little pots of slime and goo she remembered from her childhood. She almost laughed, but found her face going in a different direction when she caught sight of Ivy. While Nova merely had it dripping from her fingers... Ivy was _covered_ in the stuff. There was nothing of her skin, and even if there was some still uncovered, there would be no way for Nova to discern otherwise, as the toxic sludge was so similar to the pigment of their skin.

"Oh, shit, lady. Your skin-"

Vines shot forward, dripping with the same sludge that coated Nova and Ivy - and whacked him all the way across the room. He slid down the wall with the force of it, groaning, and with the tears and rips in his hazmat suit, he became the first to demonstrate the true terror of succumbing to the toxic slime they had produced.

Ivy was sneering, the sludge making it's way down into her mouth, running mazes through the gaps between her teeth. She didn't even blink, and that scared the goons more than the actual poisonous slime. What _was_ this creature before them that could withstand the same substance that had just melted the skin from a man's bones and not even be bothered by it? It was unfortunate that Harvey Dent had conveniently disappeared, because Nova would have loved to see the look on his face as the rest of his skin stripped itself from his bones. Especially after this stunt. With the structure of the sheer poison they had created here - there was no way they could possibly been trying to achieve anything other than chaos against nature. An attack on Earth and all her natural beauties and bounties.

And all of Gotham knew that an offense against nature was an offence against it's guardians.

So, they died slowly. One by one, they took it in turns and they collaborated - and when they were done not a single man was left standing, and not any one of them were anything but bones.

* * *

Ivy was agitated. Clearly.

She had always been fond of pacing, when at home, and she'd told Nova that it was because she enjoyed functioning and thriving in her ideal environment - that she could savour the feeling of the soil beneath her feet and spread her love to all of the plants in the vicinity. She was a benevolent, generous mother - she'd said - and Nova had agreed with her (mainly because she had been in the process of transitioning from human to plant and had been too out of her mind to dare disagree). But this kind of pacing was furious - it was too rigid to be in keeping with Ivy's usual grace and poise. They had only just finished washing away the sludge - it had taken hours - during which Pamela had grown angrier with each passing second.

"The chemical reaction between their gas and our anatomy was interesting," Nova commented, in a misguided attempt to break the heavy, furious silence that had hung in the air since their arrival. Ivy had happened to be passing by at that moment, and with the closer proximity, Nova could see she was shaking. "The... sludge, whatever it was-"

A sharp slash of pain smacked across her face, and her head turned to the side with the abrupt power of the hit.

"Shut up, you pathetic, pointless _nothing_."

Silence. She was silent. She didn't see what else she could do. Nova didn't feel anything but a fuzzy numbness that she'd noticed lingering since Jared's death. Ivy's shaking form was facing her, fists clenched at her sides, eyes no doubt wide with rage. Nova didn't look up to meet her. She simply stared at her feet - at the soil that scattered over her toes and cushioned her soles. Ivy was stood close enough for their toes to be touching, and she knew that if she looked anywhere but her eyes, she would be safe enough from the storm to keep on standing through it. Eye to eye contact would shatter her, send her sprawling and screaming back to the ground in a horrifically poetic truth of Ivy's insults.

Silence reigned, and Ivy never shifted. Neither of them did. For half a day, and a whole night they didn't move, and all that changed was that Nova could _feel_ her creator's fury ebbing gradually away, until eventually she slumped, curling up into Nova's lap. Instinct pushed her to accept her, embrace her. It was too dark for Ivy's body to rejuvenate itself - there was no natural light - nothing. So, Nova shared, as the plants had. As the sun did every single day. She was Pamela's sun, and for the short, impossibly rare instance in time, her mistress was but a planet orbiting her; seeking heat and light and stability. The encounter had seriously affected her, Nova could see that now. Ivy was not just irrationally angry, she was afraid. She hadn't had to be afraid for such a long time that she didn't know how to handle it, and as someone who had been afraid for as long as she could remember - Nova could sympathize with the feeling.

Nothing was forgiven. It never would be.

* * *

She woke to an empty house. It was inexplicably upsetting, and it took an hour or two of tending to plants and sharing sustenance before she realised it was because being left in isolation meant that Ivy wasn't worried she would try to leave again. That she was so far gone that Ivy didn't have to stick around to ensure she wouldn't escape her imprisonment. And the truth was that she had no reason to leave anymore. There was nobody to escape for, nobody to go home to. Nova had murdered her salvation. There was no reason to leave, no incentive to go - because Ivy could offer her what nobody else could - she could render her a blind, thoughtless slave without the unwanted luxury of free will or conscience. It was sad, but it was what it was.

It angered her that she was now here - to have fallen so far and to have become so reliant and so weak. Nova was a lackey, and that was all.

But looking around now, at the four walls that surrounded her, at the floor that was nothing but dirt, and up at the ceiling, which consisted of an arched roof of glass; it occurred to her that she desperately wanted to be more. She didn't want to wallow in her past, in the indiscretions and the grudges she had, ultimately, caused and delivered unto herself. She wanted to _mean_ something. She needed a purpose. Vines and leaves and petals brushed against her skin as she thought it, and it was all she needed to find herself, and to get to her feet.

She would do what Ivy had created her to do. She would get out there and she would be _meaningful_ and she would work away her pain.

"I killed him," she muttered, a quiet confession and an acceptance to the plant life around her. They didn't judge her. "I did it. Me." The plant answered her with supportive silence, curling around her limbs. "I had that anger there, stirring inside of me. I would have lashed out sooner or later." A silent affirmation hung heavy in the air, and the lump in her throat subsided after a few minutes. She was getting swiftly better at stomaching this. "Nobody made me kill him. I did that myself. I did. I did it." _You did_ , the plants seemed to say. Nova nodded, determinedly.

 _Feel better?_

Yes. Better than I have in years.

* * *

The crime scene was disturbingly easy to break into. It was cordoned off in the typical way - cones, police tape. Cars with flashing red and blue lights were parked about the place. They gave her a headache and they throbbed at her psyche, giving her unwanted flashbacks to times spent in Arkham, but at least no-one was around to preside in them. It meant she could more or less just stroll in, and when she did, breaching the entryway of the sketchy building she and Ivy had reigned hell down on a few nights before; she could see why nobody was outside. It was a horror show. Gore splattered the walls, the floor, even parts of the vast ceiling. It was a high room, too, so it spoke volumes of their fury. There was _so_ much gore that it was no surprise when she brought her gaze back down to the floor, still covered in a thick, lightly steaming sludge. There was no meat on the corpses they had left to rot there. Only bones - just as she remembered them. But even the bones were disconnected, scattered about the room, and slowly degrading into nothing as they stewed in the poisonous goo they had partly created.

"Caldwell," a deep, unnaturally gruff voice noted her presence, and Nova brought her attention up to Gotham's knight in plated armour from the depravity of the floor.

"They were brewing something here." She answered, by way of greeting, and made her way towards him - disregarding the way people around them gasped and shrunk away from her in horror as they realised what she was, and saw that she could walk through this place barefoot and unharmed. Everyone besides herself and Batman were dressed in heavy duty hazmat suits, she only just realised. "It was toxic - the bad kind - and it was destroying the purity and the structure of the natural life around here." Nova came to a stop before him, chin raised solidly as she met his impassive stare. "Two-Face was in charge."

There was a steady silence in the room for a few moments, the only sound to be heard being the gruesome hiss that rose from the goo as it melted the bones of it's victims.

"You did this." It wasn't a question.

She nodded, head cocked to the side. "Not alone."

"Mm. I see."

Once again, a moment passed where they just stood there, staring at each other. Nova remembered a while ago, the saviour who had come to protect her from her captor. He had lifted her up by her wrist, and despite her newly green appearance, he had called her by her name and asked her if she was okay. He had delivered her to Arkham, as she had begged him, and he had kept her safe, hidden away from Poison Ivy. Now, here they stood, surrounded by the evils she had committed, a line definitively drawn between them. He was looking at her now, in the same way he did Harley. It was a muted expression, and hard to pick up without intense examination, but it was there. It was in a slight downwards turning of his lips, the tight way in which he held himself around her now - the clenched fists and the way he held his head - like he was desperate to shake it in disappointment and pity.

She didn't blame him, not really. He was Batman. Who she was now was at odds with everything he stood for and against. He had tried his best to save her, but it had still driven her off the deep end.

"It's not your fault, Bats."

He didn't say anything, he merely stared at her in dismay. Nova sighed, and glanced around, eyes passing automatically over the blood and the guts and the remnants of humanity she had decorated the place with. In the darker part of her mind, she took pleasure in it. She was pleased by it. But in the quickly withering, rapidly fading side that wanted to be good and normal and moral; she was disgusted and she was horrified. She sighed again, with more angst this time, and narrowed her eyes as she searched for some clue left behind that she could work on. Slowly, she began to pace about the room, kicking bits of bone and melted metal out of the way so she could examine the ground beneath. Nova could feel everyone watching her. She could sense Batman gradually circling, guarding the exits. He didn't intend to let her escape.

The voices were getting louder inside her head, things flashed and wobbled and presented themselves through her eyes as being slightly off and it got louder and louder until it was deafening and maddening and she had to grit her teeth against it to keep herself going. She came out here to _contribute_. She refused to sit at home and be useless.

Nova, in the saner part of her brain, cringed. She had thought of it as _home_.

The eyes on her became more oppressive, aggressive, and the voices shifted in tandem to match. Suddenly they were given faces and actual presence and Nova found she was _scared_ of them. Still, she searched. She shook her head rapidly, clenched her jaw and trembled she did so - but she searched. There were whispers building, conflicting with the voices - which adapted to the tone, becoming indistinguishable from the actual voices of the people in that room with her. A few times, she had heard someone order them to get back to work - but she was causing too much of a distraction for anyone to do so. Nova let out a small whimper, desperate in her search now. She would not leave until she had it. That clue. She would not go home to Ivy empty handed. It was unimaginable.

And, suddenly - _finally_ \- just like that... she found it. Fascinatingly, the piece of fabric was almost the exact same colour as the sludge she and Ivy had secreted a few nights ago, and she stood there in near paralytic shock as she tried to decipher what that could mean until she realised that it was far more likely that the sludge had somehow dyed it. Running her fingers delicately over it, she could sense it in there, invading the material so thoroughly that it took over the colour and expanded the limitations of it. The little thing couldn't have been more than a pocket square, but Nova's goo had forced it to spread out into this odd, deformed semi-circle.

But before she could look into it any further, a force knocked it out of her hand so harshly that Nova wouldn't have been surprised to hear a crunch of bones.

"Leave." That dark, distorted voice commanded. "Now."

* * *

 _If you're not here to turn the lights off_

 _I can't sleep_

 _These four walls and me_


	9. Chapter 9: A New Eden

_There is no shortcut to a dream_

 _But I am not afraid_

 _I'll take it all the way..._

* * *

Batman's grip was almost bruising, it was so vice-like. Had he been holding the wrist of Florence Caldwell - the idiot who got her ass hauled off to Arkham Asylum by headbutting a cop - and not _Nova_ , with her gifts of strength and health and resilience, Batman would no doubt have crushed every bone in her arm without meaning to. Both of their arms were shaking, figures tensed and at odds. They were on either side of the line, and there was no crossing over it for either of them. For him, her side of the line went against everything he believed in, stood for, and fought against. For Nova, going back to _his_ side of the line was impossible. Even if she wanted to, it was obvious that she couldn't go back. Not with the way she looked now - not with _who_ she was now. Going back to that meant once again becoming complacent and inactive in a world that outright and unashamedly abused the nature around them. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

 _I owe you. I don't want to fight you._

I can't say that. It's weak, and he won't respect it.

 _Your beloved Goddess can't defeat him, and you certainly can't. Placation is your only option._

Ivy would respect my strength. She will respect my strength. I have to show her I have will - that I'm worth something. Shut up, and let me concentrate.

 _He'll break your arm first._

Shut up.

 _Your precious Poison Ivy will be forced to show up in order to preserve the species you both make up... and she will be pummelled into a pulp in the process._

Silence. Enough.

 _You know it's accurate. You've seen enough of the way the fights between Batman and the others go down. He always wins._

I don't intend to win.

 _Interesting._

"Nova," he grumbled, the unnatural distortion on his voice that came through the filter in his suit reminded her of rolling, rumbling thunder. "Don't make me come after you."

"I'm surprised you're letting me go at all. I'm a murderer, now. Not your charity project."

"It's just as easy to arrest you later as it is to arrest you now. The only different is time."

That pissed her off. Nova grit her teeth and began, oh so slowly, to push back against his hold on her. It was rebellious - symbolic - just like his sudden switch to calling her by her 'villain persona' rather than her birth name. It signified a great shift. This was, perhaps, the end of any shared values between them. "I promise you it will not be so easy to capture us. Our cause is too great."

The world shifted - spun on it's axis - flipped over and blurred out of focus. A moment of lens flare, and somehow, she was standing apart from Batman. He held his arm by his side, jaw clenched and composure shaken. He looked almost... aghast, or horrified. Nova glanced down to her hands. They were shaking. Uncontrollably.

"Who did you mean?" Her opposition demanded, bitterly.

She was still staring at her hands, turning them over as she examined them for some remnant of memories forgotten. "Myself and Ivy." She murmured. It seemed, for a moment, as though Batman was about to respond, somehow. As if he'd found - in that moment - the words he had been searching for. But a flower bloomed.

Initially, she was delighted. It was a precious, beautiful thing, this flower. Shimmering uniquely in the dull light of the building, it beckoned to her - as delighted by her presence as she was by it's own. Another child to care for and protect. It was one of those rare moments in which added responsibility was a blessing. Immediately, Nova loved it - unequivocally, she adored it. Just as she was approaching it, though, cooing at the newborn - it throbbed, and the petals parted. A pale, toxic cloud of gas spurted from within, and even considering the distance she was yet to cover between herself and her child; it was obvious to her that it was deadly. Not for her, no. But for the others...

Acting fast, Nova ran, making a direct beeline for the prone figure of Batman. He had dived in a desperate attempt to shield the law enforcement officers in the building, having realised almost as immediately as she had, what the plant's purpose was. As she neared him, she encouraged a large, beauteous plant to grow from the soil beneath the concrete. It penetrated it's way through the floor with little struggle, and with great effort on her own part, Nova directed it to sweep across the remaining floor, human remains, toxic sludge, people and Bats and all. She was beginning to feel faint, and disgusting and weak, but she had no choice in continuing her attempt to save these people. Feeble and shaky, Nova barely managed to drag each and every person from the death trap. It was long and laborious, but when she eventually reached down to take a hold of Batman, she grasped nothing. He was stood beside and slightly away from her - a severe look of contemplation colouring his features. It was the first obvious emotion she had witnessed him display other than anger and pity. The line between them was no longer so definitive. Transparency shone through it, a product of their actions. They both regained their breath, and then - having ensured the cops were far away enough from the building Nova was working on sealing off, Batman grappled away. Before he shot off, he sent her a short, near silent _thank you_.

* * *

Slowly but surely, Nova made her way home. As she traversed the unusually foggy, tinged green streets of Gotham, it dawned on her that there was only one person who could possibly be responsible for this. It made sense, now, that Ivy had been gone before she awoke that morning. This level of growth and widespread devastation would have taken a very long time to set up. Only Ivy had the sincere hatred and motive for vengeance to concoct and enact something like this.

She was kind of hurt not to be included in such a plan.

 _Such twisted thinking after such a heroic act of mercy._

Every now and then she would hear a _zip_ and would spot Batman as he got people to safety as swiftly as possible. Just as incomplete as her insanity, Nova's sadness split itself into two. The majority, unfortunately, was sorrowful because she had been left out. Because her beautiful Ivy had elected not to include her - had not thought her competent or powerful or important enough to take part in the proceedings. The much, much smaller part was mourning the unnecessary loss of innocent life - lives like the ones she had just saved. People just doing their jobs, surviving and doing their best to get by. She still possessed _just_ enough humanity to grieve what her mistress had done. The reputation it would give them - give _nature_ \- the consequences as well as the death statistics she knew she would find impossible to ignore.

Just as she could sense every plant, every inch of wildlife and nature in this corrupt city, Nova could feel the pull of her creator, above all. She knew exactly where she was - she was just deciding on whether she wished to seek her out, or not. Nova was divided, and more than a little crazy, but she was far from stupid. She was aware that sooner or later it would be deemed mandatory for her to participate in this genocide. Ivy was not likely to allow the being of her creation and subsequent enslavement to spend this time watering plants and singing to butterflies. The time would come when she would receive her summons.

But did she want to go down the path of going to her now, or waiting until she was forced to comply?

It would be a defining decision, she knew.

As she thought, Nova surrounded herself in flowers. It was a cocoon of sorts - a safe space to think. But once again, just as before, when she killed her Jared... the nature of humanity forced her down the darker route. It could not be said, of course, that she didn't _want_ to reap destruction on the people of Earth. A significant part of her _did_ want to. Punishment for every crime committed against the innocent plant life and natural glory that share inheritance of the same planet. But... wanting to do something was absolutely not the same thing as having no choice in acting on it.

These _humans_ , though...

Fire was licking at her safe little world. Everything was wilting and turning to ashes around her.

"Fuck, I knew it! That Poison Ivy bitch is over here!" A goon was towering over her. **Evil**. Her _Ivy_ was supposed to be evil? No, no, this... _this_ was the reality of evil. Letting out a roar of anguish and fury, Nova rose from the ground, desperately clutching at the burning fauna that circled her in a hopeless attempt to revive it all. The emotion that rolled through her and wracked at her very soul was that of a grieving mother. "Burn, bitch!"

He belonged to Penguin.

Nova's fury shook through her as she stood, the luminosity in her unnatural eyes was no longer glowing it was _burning_. A great, thick root of enormous proportions erupted violently from the ground beside her, and it was much larger - much bigger than anything she had created or powered before. The man held nothing more than a torch in his hand. A torch, of all things. Mostly harmless on it's own, but lethal time and time again in the hands of man. It had to end. She had never known such clarity. Not even in the murder of her love. This was a new level of discovery, because truly, now she _understood her purpose_.

 _He is the one who will burn._

The antagonist was visibly frightened, now, having both witnessed and sensed the tense, crackling atmosphere of her outrage. "Ah, shit, no..." He was beginning to back away, his free hand up in a clumsy effort to placate the raging monster before. "Look, I'm sorry I burned your plant things, yeah? It's just 'cause your, uh... kiddies are killing people down there in the streets, and-"

"Silence."

Immediately, he did so. There was no sound beyond the light crackling of the torch and the distant screams from the streets below. Up on their hill, he was safe from at least that - but not from _her_. "Lady, please-"

"Murderers of the innocent deserve no mercy." It resonated from her own lips but it wasn't her dialect. It was closer, in a way, to Ivy's own way of speaking - but not similar enough for her to be the inspiration. This was something entirely different. It was her instinct. It was the voice of a Guardian of Nature, and it shook her foe to his core.

* * *

When she was eventually done with him, she was someone new. This would be the moment that was the catalyst for the loss of the remaining fractures of her sanity. One man, with nothing but a torch and a cruel outlook was the reason Nova shed her good intentions and morals and fully crossed over to the dark side. She was tired of giving humanity chances and second chances, only to have them turn around and lay waste to all the goodness and purity that somehow survived in this corrupt, disgusting city. No longer would she hold any ounce of sympathy or compassion for these sadistic worms. Ivy was right. She had always been right. Now that she accepted her station and the mission she and Ivy were set on, all inkling of artificial control Ivy had over her simply melted away. Every piece of burning hatred and resentment ebbed away, and nothing was left but devotion and love and worship. Nova would go to her. She would not wait.

 _Sometimes, to evolve... we have to wipe the slate clean._

Precisely.

And so she did. Picking her way through the quickly quietening streets of Gotham, she weaved between her murderous children, caressing each leaf and bit of greenery that she passed. There was the truest beauty in this - in the gory creation of this Eden they must create from the rubble. Every move was akin to a dance, like Ivy. Every inhale and exhale became a musical sigh, like Ivy. As she walked, she allowed flowers and vines and buds to sprout along her arms and curl their way up towards her, **_like Ivy_**.

She wanted to be just like her mistress.

 _Nova_.

There was the voice again. She was close. She could sense her nearby. Giddy joy soared in her otherwise barren chest.

In fact... Pamela came to meet her. A very slight smile already gracing her features as they met halfway. The change within her progeny must have been extremely apparent to her. Ivy spread her arms out either side of her in an adoring welcome. She was truly pleased with their progress. Amidst the burning, dying population and the chaos around them, they met in an embrace that would have put Greek deities and their lovers to shame.

"Welcome home, petal."

* * *

 _I'm gonna give more than it takes_

 _Works harder than the rest_

 _Until I'm the very best_


End file.
